On the Way to Camelot
by Arwen who loves Aragorn
Summary: Percival thought he would always be a farmer, but fate led him by another way. This story delves into Percival's background, but it also tells what happens when one day, on the way to Camelot, he encounters a girl who tells him that her family was killed by spirit beings. Characters: Percival and Drea.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue: Clunsdale attacked

Author's Note:

Originally I wrote two separate stories, one from Percival's point of view and one from Drea's. I was intrigued by both characters. In Percival's case I thought it could be fun to delve into some background story of his character. In Drea's case it was just a matter of trying to see what kind of character she could be. But later on I decided to work them into this one story. That's why Percival's parts are narrated in third person and Drea's are narrated in first person, and sometimes the same situation is portrayed from both characters' point of view. I hope you are not going to be too confused by that.

I know that in the series, Lancelot is the one who introduces Percival to Arthur, but, with artistic license, in this story I let Gwaine do it. Gwaine is more fun than Lancelot. (Thumbs up if you agree).

Also, at some points this story deals with topics not really touched upon by the original Merlin series, like depression and self-doubt. Some would perhaps say that that side of the story doesn't match the fandom. But as a writer you can't always control where your story is going, and I am just happy that this story-in-the-story found a voice in some characters I really like.

**On the Road to Camelot**  
**or**  
**The Enemy Within**

A Merlin fan-fiction by Ellestina

_Prologue - Drea_

As if my life wasn't cruel enough already. Why did this have to happen? I saw them all die: Mum, dad, grandpa, Eric, Lilly, Sabine and even little Keira. She had not even turned two. And those shadows, they scared me so much that I thought my heart would stop. When I panicked I hid under some empty grain sacks in the cart behind the house. I lay there listening to the screams and the shadows' eerie wailing, thinking the next moment they would find me too, and take the life out of my body and freeze me, and at least then it would all be over.

Even after silence fell over the village, I lay still for hours. I didn't dare to move. The images of their frost-white faces flashed before my eyes, time and time again. I couldn't fathom they were really gone forever. It had gone so fast. One moment we were sitting together, talking and eating; Eric and I had been fighting, the next they were dead, frozen on the floor where they had fallen.

When I finally got out of the cart I had to go and check that it was really true, that I had really seen it happen. That it was not only a horrible nightmare. But when I pushed the door open, they still lay there, covered in frost. And it was cold, so very cold. Their dead faces scared me. I screamed and ran from the house. I screamed and I screamed. Someone in the village must hear and come and help me. So I thought. But they were all dead, lying in the houses or the street. The sky was reddening in the east when I realised there was no-one left but me.

What should I do? Where could I go? I didn't know anyone. Dad had sometimes told us of a time before Eric and I were born and they had just moved to Clunsdale, where war and hunger had threatened the village. Then everyone had gathered and gone to Camelot to seek refuge. That was the only place I could think of. So I began to run. I didn't think of taking anything with me.


	2. Chapter 2: Percival's betrothal

_Four years earlier - Percival_

The village of Longstead lay in a valley surrounded by tall mountains in the middle of the land of Engerd. Behind the barn of one of its farms, a young man of eighteen was pitching hay. The hay and the barn and the farm belonged to his father, but he was the eldest son so one day it would be his.

He was pitching fast; a lot faster than he had to, but that was because he liked to work. He liked to clear the fields of rocks, he liked to plough and sow, he liked to haul lumber. Anything that would put his strength to the test and make him feel his body working.

He was the biggest and strongest man in Longstead. Some said even in Engerd, but there was no way to exactly prove that. Not that it mattered to him personally, but it was nice to know that his friends were proud of him. He liked building up his strength and using it for the good of the villagers. That made him feel useful and appreciated. He also liked to drop exhausted into his bed on the hayloft in the barn at night and sleep soundly till sunrise. He'd chosen to sleep there because it was comfy and private, and there was not too much room in the small farmhouse.

When he was done pitching, the sun was disappearing behind the hazy mountaintops. Time for supper. A smell of delicious cooking filled the single room farmhouse. It reached him already outside the door where he washed the dust off his face with water from a bucket.

He sat down and ate with his family which consisted of his mother and father, his younger brother Rowan, who was eleven, and his sister Meghan, who was still just a toddler sitting in her mother's lap. They talked quietly while they filled their stomachs with the fresh bread and warm broth.

When they were done, the mother sent Rowan outside.

"Percival," said the father, "there is something your mother and I would like to speak to you about."

"What's that?" the young man asked.

"Your future. I've been to see Lothar and Elsa this afternoon. Well, the thing is, we all think it would be a fine thing if you married their daughter Bree."

Percival knew this moment would come one day and now it had.

"Bree?" he asked, seeing the girl before him with his inner eye: wavy ash-blonde hair, a small nose and blue eyes in a round face. He knew her a little. She had lived in Longstead her whole life just like himself and she was only two years his junior. He had never heard anything bad about her and he thought she was sort of in the middle between plain and pretty. She was at least not ugly and she was an open and pleasing person. She would probably be a good wife.

"Yes," his father said. He and his mother were looking at him a little apprehensively. Percival began to feel awkward. They probably all did.

"What do you think, Percival?" his mother asked.

Percival didn't quite know what to say. He was not displeased. He had always known it was his destiny to live a farmer's life here in Longstead and of course he would one day marry a woman of the village, or the next, and have children of his own. That was the life he wanted. Other than that, he did not think too much. If Bree would have him, he could not see any problems in the match.

"Well … when?" he finally asked.

"In two or three years," his father said. "Or however long it takes you and her to get used to the idea. No hurry."

"That's good," Percival said, smiling a little at them both.

"We just thought that … maybe you already had a favourite," his mother said.

"Oh," Percival said, "I didn't." In fact, he had quite liked a girl named Eleanor. He had shown her his interest, but she did not feel anything for him other than friendship. Almost a year ago she had been betrothed to someone else, and so he had put her out of his head. It was not like him to keep dreaming of the impossible.

"Good," his father said kindly. "And Percival. Be sure to treat her well. Her parents said they had no worries because they've seen how you work all day. They know you'll provide for her. But I tell you, there's more to being married than putting bread on the table."

"I know father. Of course I'll be good to her," he promised, and he meant every word.


	3. Chapter 3: Runaway Bride

In the afternoon of the following day, Percival and some of the other young men practised fighting with wooden staffs and swords. They did it more for fun than for any other reason, though of course it was always good for a village to be able to defend itself. Occasionally a few of the older men would join them, just to prove that they were still fit and could definitely best the young people who thought they knew everything.

Percival was slow because of his big build, but the others soon learned to be wary of his great strength. On his side, he could withstand a lot of strikes, but had to take his opponents' greater speed into account. He sparred with his friend Gareth and they seemed to take it in turns who would be the one to fall in the grass. He had just sent Gareth sprawling when his eye caught Bree walking by with a friend of hers. Percival thought the girls had good timing. They didn't seem to be in a hurry, but walked slowly, chatting quietly to each other so only they could hear, while eyeing the men who were fighting.

"Hello, Bree," Percival said, straightening himself.

"Hello, Percival," Bree answered.

They sort of looked each other over in the shortest of moments. Then the two girls walked on. Bree's friend was giggling excitedly.

"Have you looked at his arms? They're amazing!" he thought he heard her say into Bree's ear. Hard work paid off in several ways, Percival thought to himself.

"Why did you say hello to her?" Gareth asked when Percival heaved him up by the arm.

"Because we're betrothed to each other," he said, straight-forwardly. Saying it that way would help him get used to the idea, he hoped. Marrying would definitely be a big change, even though it was still years ahead in the future.

"You're joking!" Gareth replied.

"No, I'm not." He cast another look at her walking away and it suddenly occurred to him, that he did not actually know what _she_ thought about the whole thing. His parents had not said anything about that. He would have to ask her one of these days.

Bree seemed to have accepted her destiny the same as Percival, and as the months went by, he slowly got a clearer and clearer picture of how life with her would be like. It was quite a nice picture. He made sure to talk to her whenever the occasion arose, trying to get a bit inside her head and see what kind of girl she was. But that was a difficult task. After a while he began to wonder if she deliberately kept him at a distance, however short a distance it was. In the end he accepted it. After all, they had a whole lifetime to get to know each other. It would only get boring if he had read her inside out within the first year of their marriage.

The two or three years passed by. Plans were made, a date for the wedding set and the celebrations prepared. However, on the morning of the wedding, walking out of the barn, he found a note with his name on it stuck behind the latch of the door. He unfolded the piece of paper and started to read.

_Dear Percival_

_I want you to know that what I am going to do tonight has nothing to do with you. You are a good and kind man, and I have no doubt you will make a woman very happy one day. But that woman is not going to be me. I love someone else. I am very sorry. But my father never asked if I actually wanted to marry you. I'm running away with Feoran tonight. We are going to marry tomorrow, before anyone finds us. If I hurt you by acting in this way, I beg you to forgive me, but I cannot act differently._

_Sincerest,  
Bree._

That was that, then. Percival never showed the letter to anyone, but he told his parents that Bree had been decent enough to let him know why she had gone. He was not hurt, merely disappointed on his mother and father's behalf. They had wanted the best for him and Bree had been an advantageous match. He wished her happiness and believed readily that she would be happier with Feoran, the man she was in love with and who was in love with her, than with himself. He would just have to marry someone else, that was all, and he decided that he would try a little harder to search for a good, sweet girl by himself, rather than burden his parents with making the choice for him one more time. He dared not hope that he would actually fall in love some day, in over his head, like in the stories. The thought of it was actually somewhat intimidating. Simply liking his wife, caring for her and trusting her would be enough for him.

However, Bree's father and especially her mother did not take so well to their daughter's news. Elsa, not able to see fault in her own family, blamed Percival for the whole business.

"How can it be my fault that she chose someone else?" Percival complained to his mother in anger over the unjust criticism.

"She is shocked and probably ashamed that her daughter ran away from home. She is just taking it out on you because of that," his mother said, "Don't pay heed to what she says, I'm sure she doesn't mean it. In a few days she will see sense and maybe apologise to you."

But within a few days, Bree's mother seemed to have convinced herself that Percival was a wicked and cruel man, who had threatened Bree into despair at the prospect of a future life in the same house with him, and thus made her run away in fear. Different rumours of the whole affair were being whispered in corners and went from house to house. Bree's family was quite influential in the little village, and Elsa managed to divide its population into two separate factions.

The people who knew Percival as a gentle and patient person took his side in the dispute, but most, especially other mothers of young girls, supported Elsa's claims. Fuelled by the bad rumours, they became afraid of his strength. A feeling of mistrust and unease plagued all of the village.


	4. Chapter 4: Leaving Longstead

One night Percival made the decision to leave Longstead. It was the only solution to the problem, as it was clear that Bree's mother would not relinquish her belligerent conduct until Percival was out of her sight.

In the morning he packed his things and went into the house where he told his family about his decision. His mother wept and his father turned quiet. Rowan looked at him with great hurt in his eyes and went out of the house without a word. They wanted him to stay, but he knew it was not possible, and he knew that they also knew it.

"Where will you go?" his mother cried.

"To Uther's kingdom. Maybe I can find work at one of the estates."

It was said that Uther was a just and fair king and Percival wanted to see for himself whether the people there were better off than here in Cenred's kingdom.

His mother cried and clutched him and kissed him.

"I promise I will come back, mother," he said, only he did not know whether it would be in one year or five.

"God be with you, my son," his father said, grabbing his shoulder.

Then Percival went outside to find his brother. After a few minutes he saw him sitting up among the branches of a tree.

"Rowan, won't you come down? There's something I'd like to tell you," Percival said. The pain in the boy's eyes stung him like knives. As if his mother's tears had not been enough. He felt like a traitor. Rowan hesitated for a moment, but then he climbed down and stood in front of Percival, who knelt down to be at eye-level with his younger brother.

"Mother and father is going to need your help now, Rowan, when I am gone," Percival said. "I want you to promise to do as they say."

Rowan nodded.

"And work hard."

The boy nodded again. Then he asked: "Why do you have to go?"

"If I don't, Longstead will become a bad place," Percival answered.

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong!"

"No, I didn't," Percival agreed, though he was not so sure any more. What if he had not agreed to marry Bree in the first place? Or if he had been more keen to win her heart before Feoran did? Then this would not have happened.

"Then why can't we tell them so you can stay?" Rowan complained.

"Because they don't want to listen," he sighed. "Let's not talk more about it, because there is nothing to be done," he said bitterly. Then he paused for a moment and laid his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I'm going to miss you, little brother," he said, remembering all the times Rowan had wanted to help him work and wanted to do and be everything he did.

"I'm going to miss you too," the boy said, and now the tears ran from his eyes. He buried his head in his older brother's chest and cried. Percival held him and let him cry. That was the least he could do.

Over the next few days Percival made his way to the high road that would eventually take him to Uther's kingdom. He was on foot and spent the nights in taverns, where he worked for his food and bed. By the weekend he reached a town and his evening in the tavern there was lively and enjoyable. He got talking with a group of other young men who had gathered around a table. One of them was called Gwaine. He was tall, but not as tall as Percival, fit and quite handsome with his prominent nose, lively eyes and the long, dark brown hair framing his face. He made many jokes and talked a lot, especially about fights he had been in. He seemed smart and compelling, yet, his manner which could be interpreted as boastful, began to get on Percival's nerves after a while.

When Gwaine talked about how he had recently defeated five of Cenred's mercenaries single-handedly, Percival could not but express his disbelief.

"Well, exaggeration does make a good story better," he commented.

Gwaine looked directly at him. "Exaggeration? Are you saying I'm a liar?"

"That's not what I said," Percival said calmly, though on the inside he was wary.

"What were you doing then? Issuing a challenge, perhaps?" Gwaine sneered.

Percival scoffed. Gwaine had used the opportunity to twist his words thereby issuing a challenge himself. Now he could either take it up and win or lose as a man, or refuse and be labelled a coward. He had not sought to pick a fight, but unless this good evening was to be ruined for him, he had better take it.

"If that's what you want, pretty boy," Percival answered.

"Get up!" Gwaine said, getting to his feet himself.

"Alright, but lets go outside," Percival said as he rose from the bench. He walked slowly backwards towards the door, not losing Gwaine with his eyes. The others followed them out into the street.

Percival's notion that Gwaine was not in any way stupid was only confirmed by the way he fought. Being the one who had in fact issued the challenge, Gwaine must be the one to open the brawl, but he did so only after circling Percival for some moments and deliberating him carefully. Gwaine was a skilled fighter and there was no mistake about that. To begin with he landed a number of effective punches which staggered Percival considerably. He was brave too, challenging someone of Percival's size and obvious strength. In fact, Percival had never been challenged by a stranger before, and could not say that he had been in a lot of fights either, but in fact it was quite fun.

Gwaine was very strong for his lean figure, and he certainly knew what he was about. Percival on the other hand was stronger still and very enduring. The fight went on for a long time. In the end they were both worn out, gasping for air and lunging half-heartedly at each other, but it seemed they were both very stubborn too. Neither would give in just for the sake of ending the fight. For a few minutes they were grappling on the ground, rolling over several times. Then they got to their feet again. But as he was about to lunge at his big opponent, Gwaine stepped into a hole in the road and fell down. Though Percival knew it was not strictly fair, he seized the opportunity to finally lock in Gwaine.

Gwaine gave a tired nod, acknowledging his opponent's victory. The crowd that was watching cheered and whistled for Percival, who released his grip and helped Gwaine to his feet. They were both covered in dirt, but grinning.

"That wasn't entirely fair," Gwaine said, his eyes narrow, but his tone betraying that he indeed thought of Percival as a worthy opponent.

"Maybe so," Percival answered. "Let me buy you another tankard of mead and we'll call it even."

"Agreed."


	5. Chapter 5: Company

They went back into the tavern and settled around the table again. Percival bought the first round of drinks. That was the rest of his money gone, but he could make more tomorrow. Tonight he just wanted to have fun. For the first time he was his own master and could do what he wanted.

Two young women had entered the tavern and Gwaine invited them to sit at their table. They were both very pretty. One had wavy red hair and sparkly green eyes, the other straight, dark brown hair and brown eyes. When they came over to sit down, the brown haired girl's gaze fell on Percival. She whispered something to her friend and they both giggled. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was not the first time he had seen that look in a girl's eyes, but he had never gotten used to it. She was looking at him as if he was nothing more than a piece of meat.

The girls were flirting and laughing. Gwaine bought the next round of drinks and Percival began to get drunk. A little voice in the back of his head said he ought to call it a night, but he didn't listen.

He woke up in a room on the tavern's first floor. His head was throbbing with a pain threatening to split his skull. The first thing he saw when he got his eyes to focus was a girl's brown eyes in a pretty face framed in long, dark hair. She was smiling shrewdly. Completely taken aback, he sat up in bed and moved as far away from her as he could without falling onto the floor. What was she doing here?

"What's up with you? You were eager enough last night," she teased.

He realised that her shoulders, not covered by the bedding, were completely bare. And that he was completely naked himself.

"I don't remember your name," he said stupidly.

"Don't worry. You never bothered to ask for it."

Percival was lost for words. What had he been thinking of? And what was he supposed to do now?

"Relax," she laughed, seeing his confused expression.

"Well … what _is_ your name?" he asked after a moment of collecting himself, hoping she would think of it as a polite question.

"Marlowe," she replied, smiling carelessly.

"Do you know my name?" he asked.

"You're Percival."

"Right," he nodded. He paused before saying "Marlowe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take advantage of you."

"How do you know it wasn't the other way around, handsome?"

He didn't. He could not remember anything much from last night. But he was beginning to understand that Marlowe really didn't expect anything more from him. He felt very relieved, but also sort of empty. When he looked at her, he saw only the face of a stranger. For some reason he got to think about Bree. A small bubble of envy formed in the pit of his stomach. She was with someone that she loved.

When Percival made ready to leave the tavern, he saw Gwaine saddling his horse.

"Percival. You look like you could use a cup of willow bark tea."

"Yeah. But I've no money left."

"Teach you to save some next time. So … still going to Camelot?"

"That's what I'd planned. Why do you want to know?" Percival asked.

"I just got thinking. You fight pretty well. It's a shame to waste all that muscle of yours on just ploughing fields. If you'd like, I'll let you tag along. Teach you some tricks. Do you know how to use a sword?"

"Not really. In Longstead we only ever used wooden sticks," Percival said, deliberating Gwaine's invitation. Company would be alright, and when Gwaine was involved, it would probably never get boring. And if he could even learn to fight properly with a sword, it was too good an offer to turn down. "It would be fun to try the real thing, though," he said.

"So Camelot can wait?"

"I suppose so. I really just wanted to see what it was like. Have you ever been there?"

"Oh, I've been there, alright."

"Maybe we could go there later on, then?"

"Don't count on it. King Uther's officially banned me from his lands."

"Banned you? Why?"

"Don't know, really. I only saved Prince Arthur's life, that's all."

"That seems unfair."

"I should have let him roast. Nobility. They're not worth the trouble."

"I thought you said yesterday that your father was a knight?"

"He was, and he was the only good one. But I never knew him. My mother was not his wife."

"Oh."

"So, are you ready to leave?" Gwaine asked.

"Yes," Percival said, slinging his satchel over his shoulder.

He walked and Gwaine rode. They agreed that Percival should save up for a horse as well as a sword. Gwaine by far did most of the talking but that didn't bother Percival. Except for the occasional moments of irritation when Gwaine persisted on being a little too funny, or too clever.


	6. Chapter 6: Eggs in eggs

Gwaine fully kept his word of teaching Percival to fight. They got their hands on a cheap, battered sword in the next village, which the former farmer could train with. Even though it was in no way a quality weapon, Percival still felt good taking it up. Gwaine had been right about his talent. He was learning fast. If just a few weeks ago someone had told him he would be a warrior, he would have laughed. But now it actually seemed possible. Maybe that was his way forward in life? He could easily get used to the excitement.

The evenings they spent in taverns often developed to be quite festive, like the one where he had first encountered Gwaine. But he drank less and he decided not to take a girl to bed with him again; not like that, without thinking. And he did not, except for one evening, when he met a girl who reminded him to an unnerving degree of Eleanor from back home.

Her name was Edith and she was a miller's daughter. She was the same height, had the same hair colour, almost the same face and she moved and talked in the same way. She was a little timid but sweet and pleasing and smelled so wonderful that breathing near her made his head reel. He had a feeling he would get in trouble, but the temptation was too great for him to resist.

The next morning she went hysteric when she realised he meant to leave. This time he remembered everything that had happened and he was not sure whether that was a blessing or a curse. She had seemed nervous, and when he had asked her whether it was her first time she had said no, but he could tell that it was a lie. Now, apparently, she felt regret.

"You can't leave me like this. What if I'm pregnant?" she cried.

"I didn't exactly force you to come up here, did I?" Percival said angrily and started to get his things together. He felt like a bastard, but he couldn't stay with that girl. He just couldn't. Hopefully Gwaine was up and ready to go very soon. Percival just wanted to get out of there.

"I'm sorry, Edith," he said, stopping before he went out the door of the room. "If you want I can make it back here within the next half year, to check on you."

"Just go away and stay away, you piece of scum!" she cried. Then she began to pick up things and throw them at him. He hurried outside to find Gwaine.

A couple of hours later, when they had long been on the road, Gwaine and Percival was caught up by four men on galloping horses. Their leader said he was Edith's brother and that he had come to kill Percival. Percival and Gwaine managed to fight them off quite easily. Gwaine was quite enjoying himself, but Percival was sick and tired of the whole thing. He wished he had never taken Edith to bed with him. It had been a big mistake.

He even felt relieved over the fact that they were going to camp in the open for the next few nights. He rather began to think that the evenings in the taverns were not very enjoyable. Gwaine teased him about the business with Edith and her revengeful brother again and again.

"Just shut up and leave it!" Percival shouted angrily when he finally lost his head. Then Gwaine stopped.

Life moved on and Percival did not believe it to be sensible to keep sulking over something he couldn't change anyway. Slowly he became his old self again. But when they entered the next village, he got something completely different to think about.

They were eating a midday meal in the small tavern. A man came in and went to speak to the tavern keeper who had just served them.

"Hello Wulfric," the tavern keeper said.

"Hello Aelred. Have you heard what happened over in Longstead, you know the village in the valley behind the mountains?" the man asked.

Percival's head snapped up. They were weeks of travelling from Longstead. What could have happened that was so important it was spoken of here?

"Cenred accused the village of harbouring traitors," Aelred replied. "He didn't find any of the kind there, but still he ordered his men to raze the entire village as a punishment. Around half of the families were killed. Even some of the women and children."

Percival felt the blood drain from his face. This couldn't be happening. He shot up from the bench where he sat and faced the two men talking.

"Are you sure it was Longstead?" he asked, breathing hard.

"As sure as eggs in eggs," the man called Aelred replied, looking wonderingly at Percival.

"Do you know if anything happened to Alyss and Werth?"

Those were his mother and father.

"I don't know the names of any of those who were killed. Sorry, lad. Are they kin of yours?" Aelred asked apologetically.

Percival nodded.

Gwaine had risen from the bench and came to stand beside Percival.

"We can send a message to them," he suggested.


	7. Chapter 7: Changes

They stayed in the town for three weeks to wait for their message to be returned. Percival tried to douse his worries for his parents and Rowan and little Meghan by working like mad. Now he had money for a riding horse as well as a good sword, but that was not what was on his mind at the moment. He also trained with Gwaine a little, but he couldn't concentrate well enough to benefit from it.

Finally the messenger came back. He brought a letter for Percival written by Gareth.

_Dear Percival_

_It was good that you heard of our tragedy, because I don't know how I would have been able to find you by myself._

_I am sorry from the bottom of my heart to have to tell you this, but your mother and father, Rowan and Meghan are all gone. Your father fell fighting. Rowan and your mother ran to help him. Rowan attacked the man who killed your father with a knife. Then the man killed him too. Your mother tried to run away, but he cut her down. She was carrying the baby in a sling on her chest, and when she fell, little Meghan must have broken her neck. They're all gone, Percival. My father too, and my cousin. They burned your farm and crops. I am so sorry._

_When will you come back and see us?_

_Gareth._

Percival almost heard the world crack and collapse around him. He couldn't believe they were really gone. If only he could have seen them before they were buried. He felt so alone. And if he had never left Longstead, he could have defended his family. Maybe it was all his fault. Little Meghan. Rowan. It was too cruel.

He let out a long cry of helplessness and anguish.

Without knowing the exact content of the letter, Gwaine guessed what had happened.

"Cenred is a tyrant," he said darkly.

"I want to … kill him," Percival said in a strange voice, that didn't sound like him at all.

Just then a young boy came up and asked for Gwaine.

"That's me," Gwaine said, stepping forward.

The young boy handed him another letter. Puzzled and confused, Gwaine opened it, leaving Percival to his mourning. "Merlin?" he muttered under his breath. It was a short letter but to the point. A friend of his was asking for help. He did not take long to make his decision.

"Do you still want to go to Camelot?" Gwaine asked in the evening, when Percival was somewhat less marked by shock.

"I thought you were banned from there," Percival said dully, without lifting his eyes from his tankard of mead.

"I am. But a friend of mine needs my help. King Uther is waning and Prince Arthur is in trouble."

"You're not making sense. First you regret sparing Prince Arthur's life, and now suddenly he's your friend?"

"Not Prince Arthur. His servant, Merlin."

"Oh. Let's go there, then, if you want. Camelot is an enemy of Cenred, right? I'll help them if I can," Percival said.

Gwaine explained to Percival the few particulars stated in Merlin's letter while they finished their tankards of mead. They had planned to stay in the tavern one more night, but the situation in Camelot was so urgent that Gwaine wanted to leave right away, so he went to cancel their rooms.

So they made their way to Camelot to help Prince Arthur battle his evil half-sister Morgana. With Cenred's help, whose army she had enchanted, she had overrun Camelot and claimed the throne for herself, setting up a regime of terror and suppression within days.

Meeting Prince Arthur, fighting with and for him, changed Percival forever. The young Prince was nothing like he had expected. He was modest, exceptionally brave, and handled the responsibility that had been placed upon him in this distressed time with a wisdom far greater than his age. Every one of his actions were imbued with love for his people and for the noble idea that was Camelot. Percival had never met anyone so truly inspiring. At even the darkest hour, Arthur did not falter.

Percival had never felt more deeply honoured when Arthur made him a knight alongside Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot and Elyan. Gwaine seemed changed too, even though Percival for some time had suspected his friend of having a noble heart despite of his claimed resentment of the nobility. Quite early on he had noticed that Gwaine had a very strong sense of right and wrong and always protected the weak. Merlin and Guinevere, the clever serving girl who held Arthur's affections, were also good new acquaintances.

So it happened that Percival became a knight of Camelot. He knew that he would serve Camelot and Arthur for the rest of his life. This was his place in the world. If only his mother and father could see him now. They would have been very proud, and Rowan's adoration for his big brother would have reached soaring new heights.

Morgana was defeated and the work to set right all the damage she had done began. It would take a long time. Many people had lost some of their family members and their livelihoods. Houses needed to be rebuilt, as well as big parts of the Castle. Ruined buildings and debris needed to be cleared and new crops sown. Outside of his knightly duties of guarding, patrolling and fighting bandits who were taking advantage of the chaotic situation, Percival took part in the manual labour of clearing and rebuilding in the nearby villages.

He got a room in the castle just like all the other knights and he fell asleep at night in the soft bed, feeling almost half dead from his efforts, just like he had done in the hay loft in the old days. He missed them very much, his family and his friends from Longstead. Some day, when his duties permitted it, he would go back and see Gareth.


	8. Chapter 8: Just a girl

Percival's life fell into a steady rhythm and he felt more at peace than he had ever done since leaving home. Perhaps even more at peace than he had ever felt in his life. He was growing older and wiser because of all that had happened since that time.

Most of a year had gone by since he came to Camelot and he had reached twenty-two years of age when one very early morning he was returning to the Castle from a night patrol with Sir Leon who was Arthur's most trusted knight, and three other knights. They were riding along the high road.

"Look there," sir Leon suddenly said and directed his companions' attention to a figure running frantically along the road ahead of them.

"It's just a girl," one of the knights said.

"She looks scared to death." This was Sir Leon speaking again. "You go and get her, Percival. Children always take well to you."

That was true. Somehow the children always seemed to gather around him in the villages where he worked, and he genuinely enjoyed playing with them and making up games for them.

He galloped forwards to catch up with the girl. When he closed in on her from behind, the first thing he noticed was her tangled pale blonde hair and her bleeding feet.

"Stop!" he called.

The frightened girl did not react at first, but then she slowed down and stopped. Percival reined in his horse and dismounted. The others had said that he was good with children, but when he knelt down on one knee in front of her in the hope he would be less intimidating that way, he realised that this girl could hardly be defined as a child for much longer. She was probably around twelve or thirteen. Soon she would begin turning into a woman.

"Where are you going?" he asked in as friendly and reassuring a manner as he could.

The girl stared at him with big, pale blue eyes that were full of pain. "Ca – Camelot," she said timidly.

"What for?" he asked.

"They're all dead. In my village. They were killed. My mum, dad, everyone …" Tears filled her eyes and she started sobbing. Soon she was crying fiercely. Percival wasn't entirely sure what to do.

"There now," he said, still very calmly. "Don't be scared. You're safe now. We'll take you to Camelot. You can tell me what happened on the way. Would that be alright?"

The girl stopped crying. For a moment she just looked at him, probably trying to decide whether she could trust him or not. Then she nodded.

"Good," he said and tried a little smile. "What's your name?"

"Drea."

"Don't worry, Drea. I'm Percival. I'll look after you. Alright?"

She nodded once more, looking much less scared.

He signalled for her to come with him. Then he lifted her onto the horse and mounted up behind her.

"Hold on tight," he said and obediently she grabbed a whisk of the horse's mane in each hand and twisted them around her fingers.

On the way he tried to get her to tell more. She had said that many people in her village had been killed. This was very serious. Arthur would have to know as quickly as possible.

"How old are you, Drea?" he asked.

"Thirteen."

"What's the name of your village?"

"Clunsdale."

That was one of the villages he had been working in. He paused for a while before asking another question. He did not want her to feel pressured. If she did, she might not tell any more. Also, he truly felt sorry for her. He knew what it was like to lose your family, and he had not even seen it happen in his own case.

"Did someone attack you?" he then asked.

"Yes, in a way," she answered mysteriously.

Slowly, question by question, he unravelled her terrible story. Apparently the new enemy was not flesh and blood, but rather a form of spirit beings. It sounded incredible, but he did not think she was lying.


	9. Chapter 9: Where are you going

_Drea_

I ran as fast as I could. By the time I reached the high road, my legs ached and my lungs stung. But I was too scared to slow down. What if those beings realised they'd missed me and came back after me to finish their job? I was barefoot and the rocks tore my feet to shreds but I hardly felt it over my fear.

While I ran, I thought about many things. Even before this, I thought I'd suffered enough. Not from real harm, just … pain inside. I'd thought no-one really understood what it was like to be me. I was always afraid that the others thought I was stupid, or ridiculous. And I was often so confused that within hours I could go from being happy to being angry to being sad and then back to being happy again. And there were all those feelings and thoughts and dreams that I never told a living soul about, not even Ailith, my best friend. Ailith was dead now.

Eric, my older brother, used to tease me about being so quiet and awkward but most often mum told him to let me be. When I sometimes despaired over it all she would comfort me and say I just felt this way because I was growing up and it was very normal. But I didn't quite trust her. She could not possibly know what I felt like, and when I looked at the other girls, they all seemed perfectly happy and harmonious, even Ailith. I felt miles away from them. But I had never felt so alone in the world, so anguished as I did now. They were all gone, all my loved ones. Why, why, why did I have to survive? If only they had taken me too. Then I wouldn't be alone and scared and ashamed to be still alive.

As I was running along the dusty high road I suddenly saw a group of four or five men on horses behind me. They must have come in from one of the smaller side roads. They were in shining chain mail and bright red, billowing sur-coats. Knights of Camelot. When they saw me, they exchanged a few words. Then one of them urged his horse forward in a gallop, catching up to me. "Stop!" he called. I got really scared. The knights were enforcers of the law. Had I done something wrong? Would I be punished for what happened in the village? Would they put me in a dungeon and let me starve? Silly thoughts you have when you are scared.

I hardly dared to stop and face the knight, but I was even more scared of being punished for disobeying. So I did stop and looked up at him. He was tall, really tall, and big. I shook both with exhaustion and fear. But as soon as he looked at me, I was less scared. He had a gentle countenance, calm and patient, and he had kind, blue eyes.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Ca – Camelot," I stammered.

"What for?"

"They're all dead. In my village. They were killed. My mum, dad, everyone …" Then I couldn't hold back the tears any more. I cried like a colic baby, finally letting go of my last scrap of dignity.

"There now," I heard the knight say quietly through my wailing. "Don't be scared. You're safe now. We'll take you to Camelot. You can tell me what happened on the way. Would that be alright?"

I gathered myself and nodded.

"Good. What's your name?" he asked.

"Drea."

"Don't worry, Drea. I'm Percival. I'll look after you. Alright?"

I nodded again. By the time he had lifted me onto his horse, I already felt myself falling in love with him. And that made me even more ashamed. My whole family had just been killed, and I thought about romance. That was definitely proof that I was insane.

I was not really afraid that he would sense how I felt. I was an expert in hiding my feelings, especially those I was ashamed of. He mounted up behind me and told me to hold on tight. The other knights had caught up now and the horses all broke into a canter. We would be in Camelot soon. On the way he asked me questions, to find out what had happened and possibly also to calm me down.

"How old are you, Drea?"

"Thirteen." Obviously much too young for him. But I couldn't help my feelings.

"What's the name of your village?"

"Clunsdale."

He kept his voice down. It gave a nice feeling of privacy and confidence. He waited for a few moments before asking a new question.

"Did someone attack you?"

"Yes, in a way," I said, not sure if I could even begin to explain those ghostly beings.

One little question at a time he managed to get me to tell the whole story. I was nervous whether he would believe it when I told him about the shadow beings, but if he did not, he hid it well.


	10. Chapter 10: The King

_Percival_

When they arrived at Camelot he knelt down before Drea again and explained that she needed to tell what had happened to Arthur. She seemed scared again at the thought of talking to the famous Prince, but she agreed anyway. He sensed that she did not want to let him down.

Sir Leon went to wake up Arthur. The others went to get the various council members. Percival lead Drea to the throne room where they all would gather. Arthur was the last one who arrived. Percival did not step away from Drea's side before the Prince came near. He could feel that she relied on him and he did not want to disappoint her trust.

During Arthur's careful interrogation, Percival let his eyes rest on the girl's face. There was something about her that reached in and touched him deeper than anything or anyone else had ever done before. Perhaps it was the look in those large, icy blue eyes, which were overflowing with a mix of confused and despaired emotions. Perhaps it was her frail voice that was like a beautiful musical instrument, even when it cracked and strained. Perhaps it was how her every feature; her hair, her skin, her lips, were so pale and delicate it made her seem like she was made of glass.

He sensed that so many wonderful things were hidden behind those eyes and within that slight form. Her heart was broken but all the beauty within it was shining through the cracks.

He realised that he really wanted to get to know Drea better.

_Drea_

The knights rode straight into the castle yard of Camelot. I had never been at a castle before. It was so big. Percival lifted me down from the horse's back and stable hands lead away the mounts. Then he knelt down in front of me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Drea. I need you to tell my friend, Prince Arthur, about what happened in your village. He will want to know. And then he will find a way to stop the shadow beings, alright?"

Percival wanted me – _me –_ to speak to the Prince of Camelot? I was about to object, tell him that I was too scared to talk to a royal. But I could not let him think I was a coward, or a baby.

"I'll tell him," I said, feeling so nervous that I was afraid I'd faint. _Just don't leave me, Percival_, I begged inside my head. I needed him there. None of the others seemed to understand me as he did.

A knight with curly hair said he would get Prince Arthur. The three others spread out to "gather the council". Percival took me to the throne room. It took a while before the council members began to turn up. I realised it was still so early that most of them would have been in bed. And it was my fault that they had to be woken. I really hoped they wouldn't be mad at me. A dozen or so council members, all men and most in very fine clothes, gathered in small semi-circles around me. Percival remained by my side up till the moment where the Prince stepped inside the room. He didn't wear a crown or anything else to mark him apart from the other knights, but I could tell it was him right away because of the way everyone else in the room seemed to sort of straighten in his presence. He also had a very noble countenance. I was so nervous that I was shaking. They might as well have asked me to speak to a god.

But Prince Arthur was really nice, and looked much younger when he came closer, than I'd thought he would. He asked my name and he only prodded me for the most important information. It was over within a couple of minutes, but he still took the time to look me in the eye and say thank you. I had not expected him to actually _see_ me, but he did. I felt a little more confident afterwards.

They handed me over to an old, white-haired man.

"You are very brave, Drea," the old man said, eyeing me with one raised eyebrow. Then he smiled kindly. "My name is Gaius. I'm the court physician. Why don't you come with me. I'll fix you some breakfast and take a look at your feet."

"I'm not hungry," I said feebly.

"I understand that. But its best for you if you eat. Let's try, shan't we?"

When I walked out the door, not knowing if I would ever see Sir Percival again, I thought my heart would burst. But I told myself not to be silly. I'd known he would be out of my life sooner rather than later. I was just so afraid, for him and Prince Arthur and all the rest of them. The shadow beings were somewhere out there, and how would they hope to stop them? They could not be stopped. It was impossible. I was afraid they would ride to their deaths, all because of me.

I went with Gaius to his physician's quarters, which were nice and homely in a way, but it was also filled with books and lots of bottles and many other things I didn't know what was for. Gaius asked me to sit down on a bench by the table and from a cupboard he got an apple and some bread which he placed before me on a wooden plate together with a tankard of sweet elderflower lemonade.

"Try and see if you can eat a bit. It'll do you good," he said.

I ate a few bites, but it was like the food swelled up inside my mouth and almost stuck in my throat. After treating the sores on my feet, Gaius let me rest on a bunk in the room where he worked. I lay down and watched him go around his business. From time to time he talked to me, telling me about different things, like his apprentice Merlin, who was also Prince Arthur's manservant. I could hear he was very proud of him. Eventually I drifted off to sleep, finally finding a relief for my sorrow and anguish. I woke in the evening, feeling a little better.


	11. Chapter 11: A sacrifice

Over the next few days I stayed with Gaius. He tried to get me to talk some more, but I didn't feel like it. He also asked me for help with little things when he was making his potions or processing his herbs. It was nice to do something. It made me feel less in the way. But in the nights, I was scared. Everyone was. The shadow beings, which Gaius said was called the Dorocha, came all over Camelot when it was dark. We needed to bring torches everywhere to fend them off. I was scared to leave Gaius' room. When he had to go at night and care for the dead, I sat stock-still on the bunk with a burning torch in my hands and candles lit all over the room. I was so afraid that they would come smashing through the windows, rush through my body and take my soul with them to whichever dreadful place of horror they came from. But it never happened and Gaius returned every night. When the sun rose, we went to sleep and most often woke just past noon.

One night, the Dorocha came back as usual. But then they vanished again, long before sunrise. We were reluctant to believe they were gone for good. But they did not come back the next night or the next again, and then on the third morning, Prince Arthur, his knights and Merlin returned to the castle and they said it was really true. And I heard the story of how Sir Lancelot had sacrificed his own life to close the rift that had been made in the veil between the worlds. He must have been very brave, but I was mostly just grateful it was not Percival who had taken it upon himself to do it. I looked at him through the window facing the courtyard. He was so wonderful. If he had died, I would want to die too.

_Percival_

Percival would have liked to stay near Drea to be able to check up on her, but for now, Arthur needed him by his side. After visiting Clunsdale it was soon decided that they must go to the Isle of the Blessed. Their quest was to repair the veil that Morgana had torn between the world of the living and the world of the dead. That was the only way to be free of the Dorocha, as Gaius called the dreadful spirit beings.

The quest became yet another one of the most testing moments in Percival's life, as well as in the lives of Arthur, Merlin and the other knights. Percival had his doubts whether any of them would return to Camelot alive. But it became Sir Lancelot who paid with his life, and they returned marked by the loss of their friend. Lancelot had always been the very image of chivalry. The Dorocha were gone, but the price had been so very high. Percival could tell that Arthur was mourning over him, perhaps even blaming himself for what had happened.

But Arthur's trials were only beginning. Not long after, he also mourned the loss of his father and must ascend the throne and bear the burdens that went with it himself. Percival was as proud as ever to serve King Arthur of Camelot. But the days were dark. Some unseen powers always seemed to work against the new King. If trouble were not brewing in the east, they could be sure that they were doing so in the three other corners of the world.

Even though his service to Arthur kept him occupied almost around the clock that year, Percival did not forget about Drea. The impression she had made on him that one morning when he had picked her up on the high road, was a lasting one. And for some time he deliberated what course of action he should take regarding her. But no matter how he looked at the matter, he always came back to the same devastating conclusion: That he could take no course of action at all. He only wanted to talk to her, make sure she was safe and that she saw him as a friend whom she could turn to should the need arise. But because she was so young, any kind of interest that he might show her would only be misinterpreted by her caretakers as well as his own friends. A part of him felt that it did not matter what other people thought. But he was a knight of Camelot. His duties to King Arthur came first. But maybe one day, when she was older …

Percival learned that Drea had been apprenticed to a basket maker in the lower town. From time to time he saw her when he was on guard there. It could be months in between, but she always looked the same. To the eyes of the world she might just look like any other poor girl, but to Percival, she looked so very beautiful. The trouble was, she also always looked pained and unhappy. Something must be wrong in her life. He wished ardently that he could do something to help her. He would seize any opportunity, but none ever arose.


	12. Chapter 12: Apprenticeship

_Drea_

Things were going back to normal in Camelot. As I could not go back to Clunsdale and live there all on my own, a place was found for me to stay: I was apprenticed to a basket maker whose husband worked at the castle as a stable hand. Their children were grown up and didn't live with them any more, so they had a spare room that I could sleep in. Their house with the basket workshop out front was in the lower town.

I didn't like either of the two people. Gertie, my mistress, was lazy and greedy. For the first year I was only on trial, she said, and would receive no wages apart from food and lodging. The room I slept in was cold, filthy and damp. Her husband, Elvin, was a fat, smelly, unwashed man with rotten teeth, bloodshot eyes and bits of food always caught in his beard. He also drank too much. They both had a bad temper. They never smiled or said a kind word to each other, nor to me.

The only thing I liked about being there was to make the baskets, because I liked working with my hands. At first, handling the wickers made them bleed and ache. But slowly they became callused and strong, and the baskets I made were becoming saleable. I would sit in the workshop for hours, eager to see my work in progress being finished. I experimented and thought up new ways to make patterns with the wickers. That was the only thing I could do that made me forget all the other things around me.

I struggled to press the image of Percival to the back of my mind. I kept saying to myself he would never look in my direction. I was only a child. He was a man, who had his own life and his own friends. He was even a knight of Camelot, equal of the nobility even if he was not born into it. He would never concern himself with someone like me.

For a time I thought I had managed to forget about him, but when the nightmares of Clunsdale haunted me and I woke up, alone in the cold and the dark, his name was still the one I whispered out in front of me to whisk away the horrors.

I hoped that when my trial year was over, I would be able to save up the wages I would be receiving and make a new start for myself when my apprenticeship was over. Maybe I could go to another town and set up my own basket workshop. As the months passed by, it clearly showed that I was a talented basket maker. My mistress' customers praised my new patterns and methods and her sales went up. She never mentioned to anyone who made the new baskets, though.

When a year had gone by I began to receive wages, but they were so low that I suspected I was being cheated. I just did not dare to ask anyone about it for fear that Gertie would hear. If she did, I could probably say goodbye to any wages at all. Luckily I was able to save up most of what I got. I would rather do that than buy things for myself, like new clothes or fancy things. No one hardly ever looked at me anyway, so I had no reason to dress up. But still, I feared I would not have enough to set myself up when the remaining three years of my apprenticeship had gone by.

I had thought things would get better now that I was a paid apprentice, but they only got worse. As I was learning more and more, my mistress began to spend less and less time in the workshop. Instead she let me take care of business while she went out to visit her daughter or some friends of hers, or she simply stood chatting in the streets for hours when she was supposed shop for new supplies. She even gave me house chores as if I was a servant she could order around as she pleased. If I complained, she called me ungrateful, or even threatened to get her husband to beat me when came home at night. He was never home during the day, no matter if he had night shift or day shift. He spent most of his spare time in the tavern. Luckily she never made good on the threat.

"You seem like such a pleasing girl. Why don't you find some friends instead of staying in this shop all day?" an observant customer, a smiling, middle-aged woman, said one day. I know she meant well. But she could just as well have asked me to pluck the stars out of the sky. I could never make friends with anyone, not when things were like this. Not when I was like I was. They would think I was weird, not right in my head. Perhaps I wasn't.

I was very lonely, but simply to speak to other people made me nervous and insecure. That could not be normal. I felt lost, sort of unhitched and trailing after life. Who would ever understand the chaos that went on inside my head? It was all a big mess.

I was still in love with Percival, but to me, being in love was not something pleasurable, it was torment. I also disliked everything about myself. And I was so ashamed of the fact that I let myself put up with the treatment I received from Gertie and Elvin, but I had nowhere else to go.

The sales from the workshop still went better and better. Gertie spent the extra money on new furnishings for the living room and bedroom, better clothes and things like that. But no improvements were made to my room. I did not get better wages either. When I plucked up the courage to ask for it, my mistress replied: "Don't be ungrateful, little Drea. You know I would pay you better if I could, but I really can't afford it." That was obviously a lie. She just didn't want to spend it on me. Then, with a little laugh, she added: "What would you need money for, anyway?" Not that she was interested in hearing my answer. The only thing I benefited from was the better food, even though it did not raise my failing appetite much.


	13. Chapter 13: The useless

_Percival_

Drea also sometimes noticed Percival. Most often she looked down timidly when they caught each other's eye in the street, but one time it also happened that she held his gaze fast.

That was about two years after he had first met her. He was standing guard in the square in the lower town, and she came there to get water from the pump. When she had filled her bucket, she looked up and saw him standing there in the corner of the square. Instead of picking up her bucket and going on her way, she slowly straightened and just stood there, looking at him with those immeasurably sad eyes. He gazed back at her, trying desperately to communicate to her without words. _I have not forgotten about you. Be strong, Drea. Wait for me._

They kept staring at each other; Percival did not know for how long. It was like they had entered another world where only they existed. It could have been a few minutes, or an hour. When someone else who needed to use the pump addressed Drea, it was over. She turned and went carefully back with her full bucket without looking back at him.

_Drea_

I was fifteen when Elvin was developing a habit of staring at me. I did not like the look in his eyes when he did it. So I made a secret pocket in my dress and put my wicker knife in it. It was small but always very sharp. And at night I put it under my pillow. It turned out to be a wise move. One day Gertie and Elvin's daughter had a baby and Gertie stayed in her house overnight. Elvin had gone to the tavern after supper, so I was home alone. But in the night he came back, entered my room which did not have a lock on the door and tried to force me to go to bed with him. He got furious when I slashed him with the knife, but he was too drunk to really do anything. In the end I managed to fight him off. I ran from the house and spent the rest of the night hiding in a dark alley on the other side of the town.

The next day I was still very shaken and confused. I did not think my life was worth very much and the thought crossed my mind of making an end to it. But then I saw Percival in the square when I was getting water for soaking the wickers. He was standing guard there. As always I had very opposing feelings about him seeing me. In a way I desperately wanted him to notice me. But in another way, I felt the opposite because of my poor appearance. I did not want him to see me clothed in rags and I definitely did not think there was anything beautiful about me.

But this time I was so depressed that I did not really care. If I was going to end my life, I would have one good memory to take with me: Percival's face. So when he caught my eye, I did not look down. And the way he looked at me gave me new hope. Unbelievable as I thought it was, the look in his eyes told me that he had not forgotten about me. That he cared. I kept looking into them for a long time, hoping it would never end. It felt like nothing stood between us, and I wanted to enjoy it as long as possible. Again I remembered clearly why I felt the way I did about him. He was so strong, but also so gentle and kind. He was a knight. He protected the weak. I wished he would hide me in those strong arms of his forever. If he would, then maybe my life would be worth living.

From then on, I always made sure to stay away from the house when I knew Gertie would not be home during the night. Luckily it did not happen very often. It was cold to spend the night in the streets, especially one time when it had to do it in midwinter.

Over the next couple of years, nothing really changed. I just felt more and more like I was nobody. And I was always afraid that one day Elvin would catch me off guard and finally take what he wanted from me. I was always on my guard and made excuses to stay away from him, but I could see in his eyes that he was not going to give up, and I really hated him. And feared him.

If only I had been one of those people who always managed to stay hopeful and cheerful. But I was not. I was Drea the useless. Drea the stupid. All I had was my love for Percival, and even that was an endless source of frustration because I knew it could never bear fruit.

Some nights I sat awake, full of despair, and I would put my arm into the flame of the candle light, or slit my skin with the wicker knife. Just to be able to feel something, even if it was only more pain. Maybe I also deserved that pain. It caused scars, but I hid them by always wearing long sleeves.


	14. Chapter 14: Glasslike

_Percival_

Things were looking better for King Arthur after his uncle Agravaine had been exposed as the great traitor in league with Morgana. The young King was finally finding his feet as a ruler and also benefited from the unfailing support of Guinevere, whom he had recently made his Queen. It looked like more peaceful times were ahead and everyone's spirits lifted somewhat.

Percival still enjoyed life in Camelot. He and Gwaine had grown close friends. They still sparred with each other occasionally outside of the regular knights' training sessions conducted by King Arthur himself. Percival concentrated much on keeping his form and developing his fighting skills, trying new types of weapons. He still had quite many things to learn as a warrior.

One time he asked Arthur for leave to go and visit Longstead. The King knew about Percival's story and granted his permission without hesitation.

It was good for Percival to see Gareth and all his other old friends again.

"I'm very sorry for what happened back then," Lothar, Bree's father, said when he shook the young knight's hand in welcome, referring to his and perhaps in particular his wife's reaction to their daughter's running away.

"Don't be. It's all forgotten," Percival replied, grasping his hand heartily. He saw no reason to hold a grudge. After all, even though he still sometimes blamed himself for his family's death, Percival would never have become a knight if he had not been forced to leave Longstead. He would never have met Arthur, or Gwaine. And his visit to his home village also showed him how much he had changed since then. He could never see himself as a farmer again, and therefore he also felt some relief at going back to Camelot after a few days. The thing he was most satisfied about was having visited his family's graves. It allowed him to let go of the last bit of lingering grief in his heart.

A couple of years later Percival spotted Drea walking in the street. It was a long time since he had last seen her. She would be seventeen now. She was still very young, but she was not a child any more. She was quite skinny as was usual for her, but she had clearly acquired a woman's form. Her hair had grown longer and she was a little taller, too. But even though it was summer, she wore long sleeves, which puzzled him somewhat. Perhaps she was cold because she was so thin? When she turned her head for a short moment he caught a glimpse of her face and it took his breath away. She was more beautiful than ever. He was completely taken by her soft, sweet lips and those well-known delicate, glass-like features.

_ Soon, Drea._

It occurred to him that he knew so little about her life. For all he knew, she might never have thought of him since the day he brought her to Camelot. For all he knew, she might have a favourite of her own, might even be betrothed to someone. She disappeared in the crowd as he realised that the thought that she might never be his was the most terrifying idea that had entered his head since the time that he learned of his family's fate.

That night he could not fall asleep. He must talk to Drea. Seventeen was still quite young, but it would have to do. The time had come. Those who knew him would know he intended no harm for her. The only real question was how he should approach her. He wanted to tell her how he felt about her, but he did not want to overwhelm her. What should he say? Where should he seek her out? He would have to figure out soon.

_Drea_

One day my fears came true. Elvin suddenly came home in the middle of the day. I was sitting in the shop, working on a basket and thinking whether it was time for a lunch break when he burst in. Gertie had just left. Probably he had even been spying, waiting for his wife to leave.

"Can't hide now, can you, dirty wench?" he said, looming before me. He was angry because I had successfully evaded him for so long. But what scared me the most was that he was not drunk at all. With all his senses together it was unlikely that I could fight him off once more. Quickly I grabbed the knife that lay next to me on the floor and got to my feet, pointing it at him with a shaking hand, determined that he would not get me without a fight.

A couple of times he made to grab me, but I slashed the knife at his arms so he did not succeed. But then he managed to get hold of my wrist. He tried to get the knife from me, but I held on to it. I suppose I could have screamed for someone in the street to hear me, but I was so ashamed to even be in this situation. I was the outcast. What if no-one even wanted to help me? What if they thought I deserved what I got, like Elvin did?

He dragged me into the living room and fastened the lock on the door. My heart was pounding with fear. Then he dragged me further along into my own room, where he gave me a rattle and punched me in the ribs until I dropped the knife. I fought all that I could to get free of his hold, but he was too strong. Then he slammed me into the wall and pinched me against it with his own stinking body.

"You think you are too good for me, don't you? Well, you're nothing but a mongrel bitch," he snarled as he began tugging at the laces of my dress. I could not stand the feeling of his filthy hands touching me and it was like something snapped inside my head.

"Please, let me go," I begged, breaking into tears at the thought of what was to come. "Please, don't do it." Of course it didn't help one bit.


	15. Chapter 15: Nightmares envisioned

_Percival_

Percival was gathered around the midday table with Gwaine, Sir Leon, Elyan and a number of other knights and men-at-arms. As usually, the latest news from the castle were discussed.

"One of the stable hands were sacked this morning," Elyan told the others. "Last night he was caught harassing one of the kitchen girls. I think the stable master was quite relieved to get rid of him. I heard he had wanted to sack him for a long time because he never did an honest day's work."

"Was it the basket maker's husband?" Sir Leon asked.

Elyan was not sure, but one of the other knights confirmed Sir Leon's guess.

"That was him. The stable master told me himself right after it happened."

At the mention of Drea's caretakers Percival pricked his ears. Suddenly he had a horrifying realization. The stable hand had been harassing a young girl. He lived in the same house as Drea. Drea always looked so troubled and frightful. It was only too plausible that … Why hadn't he done anything sooner? He'd known she was miserable.

Percival dropped the spoon into his stew. Getting up from the bench, he said to his friends: "Cover afternoon shift for me, will you?" Then he rushed out the door without waiting for an answer, grabbing his sword from the rack next to the door. With a wildly beating heart, he ran towards the lower town, where he found the basket maker's house with the workshop out front. The door was closed and apparently no-one was there. He tried the door-latch. It was not locked so he went inside. The workshop looked neat and tidy and there were stacks and stacks of very fine baskets on all the shelves. In the back was the door to the living chambers. He went and tried that too. It was locked. He was just about to knock, but a strange sort of premonition stopped him. Instead he put his ear against the door and listened. Distantly he heard noises of fighting. Furniture was bumped around, something shattered on the floor and then he heard Drea's muffled, sobbing voice.

Anger and fear for Drea surged through Percival and filled him with strength. He kicked in the door and found himself in a combined kitchen and living room. No one was there either. It was richly furnished for a basket maker's home, he quickly noticed. There were three more doors in that room, but now he was close enough to the noise to know which one the sound came from. There was no lock on it, it was even ajar, so Percival just pushed it hard so it opened fully. The room must be Drea's. It was small and dark and contained only the most necessary furnishings: a narrow bed, a small table with a rickety chair and a small chest of drawers.

A small but sharp-looking knife lay on the floor among shards of pottery. Drea was being pinned against the wall next to the bed by a balding, pot-bellied, unwashed man, who was tugging at her clothes. When the door banged open, he looked back over his shoulder. Percival recognized his face vaguely from the stables. The man froze in surprise when he saw the tall knight. Percival, in his rage, completely forgot about the official procedure and wording of arrest.

"Get away from her!" he simply growled.

The coward adulterer stepped back, shaking, hands raised in the air.

Feelings of both relief, surprise and shame were evident in Drea's flustered face.

Percival was very tempted to send his fist square into the man's jaw, but as he was not resisting arrest it would be against the knights' code and he managed to restrain himself. The knights' code was what he lived by, after all.

"Are you alright?" Percival asked Drea.

She nodded, her eyes large in shock.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

Percival used a soaking wicker from the workshop to tie the felon's hands behind his back and led him outside where he handed him over to the nearest guard with orders for the dungeon. Then he hurried back to Drea, hoping ardently she had not run off in fear or shame. He had to know whether she had been harmed, either today or earlier on. He wished so hard she had not fallen a victim to the nightmares he envisioned in his mind.

When he entered the house again, he found that she had not moved a step but she looked afraid.

"Drea," he said. She stared into his eyes like she could not believe what had just happened. "Drea, he did not … harm you, did he?"

For a moment she did not react. " … No," she finally said.

"What about … I mean, has he done something like this to you before?"

"No. He tried once. But I got away because he was too drunk. From then on I always stayed out at night when my mistress wasn't home. But this time … I don't know. I was so surprised … If you hadn't come … "

She started crying. Percival was shocked too. If he had come just a few minutes later it might have had terrible consequences. Involuntarily he put his arms around her and comforted her by stroking her soft hair. For some moments she pressed her face into his chest, trying to control her tears. There were a million things he wanted to say, but now was not the time. He waited patiently for her to calm down.

"Percival," she whispered, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "Please take me away from here. I never want to go back."

When he heard her whisper his name it was as if the four years that had gone by, had lasted no longer than a few days. "You're not going back. I promise you. Let's go right now."


	16. Chapter 16: My secrets

_Drea_

Suddenly there was a crash as the door flew open and banged into the wall. Elvin froze. I dared not believe my own eyes. It was Percival. Of all people it was actually Percival. Had he come to my rescue, just like in all my foolish daydreams? I was so relieved when he told Elvin to get away from me. But I was also ashamed because Percival saw me like this. And on top of it all I was absolutely thrilled, because the tone in his voice betrayed that he cared about me. I could not interpret it in any other way. I could not even answer properly when he asked me if I was alright. I just nodded.

"Wait here, I'll be right back," Percival said.

He took Elvin outside. I felt scared and alone. What if someone came in? But I did not move. He had said he would come back and he did. It had probably not taken him more than a few minutes, but it felt like an hour to me. The look in his eyes when he came back almost broke my heart, it was so full of concern. He kept asking to make absolutely sure Elvin had never harmed me. I told him no and explained how I had always succeeded to evade Elvin until now. Another wave of relief washed over me. I was shaking all over. I could not hold back my tears even though I tried really hard. But Percival put his arms around me and let me cry. I could only think of one thing: That I wanted to go away from Elvin and Gertie and never come back to this house. I told Percival that. I was so afraid he would reject me, saying it was not for him to decide, but I had no one else to rely on.

"You're not going back. I promise you. Let's go right now," he answered. For the first time in years I felt safe.

Percival took me by the hand and led me through the town, up to the castle. I felt that everybody was staring at us, but maybe it was just my imagination. I was proud to be seen with Percival, but those people must be wondering about what I was doing with him, which made me embarrassed. And could they tell what had just happened to me?

We did not speak until we entered the castle yard where there were less people around.

"I … I've been thinking a lot about you, Drea," he said as we crossed the yard.

My heart began to beat wildly again. I did not know how to answer him. I forgot that my brain was not an open book and that he could not see how much I had been thinking about him too. Could it really be that he loved me? I looked up at him and tried to find some words to say, but before a sound passed my lips, we were outside Gaius' door. Percival knocked on it.

It opened and Merlin's head emerged.

"Hello Percival," he grinned.

"Hello Merlin. Do you remember Drea?" Percival said, indicating me with a caring look that made my knees all wobbly, even though I was also anxious that Merlin would notice it.

"Oh, yes, I do. You're the girl who helped us find the Dorocha," Merlin said, to my surprise. "Hello, Drea," he greeted with a good-natured smile.

"She needs to be seen by a physician. Is Gaius here?" Percival asked.

"Yes. He is right here. Come inside. What's wrong with you, Drea?" Merlin inquired as he stepped aside and let us in.

"Oh, I … It's just … " I stammered. Actually I wasn't sure what Percival had in mind. I certainly did not want to make a fuss.

Gaius now joined us and greeted us both.

"Drea's been attacked," Percival explained. "I just thought we should make sure she was alright."

"Of course!" Gaius said, before I could make any protests.

Percival sat down and talked with Merlin while Gaius set up a screen in front of the bunk I had once slept on almost four years ago and asked me to sit down and take off my outer dress.

"Who was it that attacked you?" the physician asked quietly when I had removed the dress.

"It was a man … " I began, but it was so hard to talk about it, that I could not continue. Gaius nodded understandingly.

"How did he attack you? Did he hit you anywhere?" he asked patiently, not rushing me.

"Yes, he hit me here, in the ribs," I said, "but mostly he just … held me fast, and shook me."

Gaius nodded and asked a few more questions while he examined me, but thankfully he did not ask to know the reason why Elvin had attacked me. Maybe he guessed it, or maybe he let me keep my secrets.

"You have a few bruises, but I think that is all. If you are still sore after three or four days, you should come and see me again, but I think it will be gone before then," he said and made to leave so I could get my clothes back in order. But then he stopped and laid a hand on my arm. "What are those?" he asked with a frown. I looked down at the arm that he was holding. It was covered in thin white lines and blots, scars from sores I had given myself.

"That's nothing," I said and withdrew my arm, quickly covering both underarms under my dress, which I was holding.

"Hmm," the physician mused and moved away. When I emerged from behind the screen, he handed me a bowl of hot soup. It smelled like he had added some unusual herbs to it.

"It's for the shock," he explained.

I sat down and ate it slowly. It didn't taste too bad.

"Drea. Percival said you need new place to live. You are welcome to stay with Gaius and me until you find a more permanent one," Merlin said. "You can have my room. I'll just sleep out here."

I wished that I did not have to intrude on them, but I had no idea where to find another place to stay. My savings were back at Gertie and Elvin's so I had no money for a room at the tavern. "Are you sure it would not be too much trouble?" I asked.

"No, not at all," Merlin smiled.

"You can stay as long as you like," Gaius confirmed.

"Thank you. That would be wonderful," I said feebly. Suddenly I felt so tired. It was probably that soup.

Percival sat with me while Merlin got some fresh linen and cleaned up his room. Gaius went around his own business.

"Would you like me to go back and get your things?" Percival asked.

"That would be great."

I did not own very much, just my savings, my change of clothes and a very few knick-knacks. But it would be nice to have them with me. Percival looked like he might go and get the things now, but I did not want him to go just yet.

"Percival?"

"Yes, Drea."

"I … I have … " I wanted to say that I had been thinking about him too, but my courage failed. "I mean, I just wanted to say thank you."


	17. Chapter 17: Would it be alright

When Merlin had fixed up the room, Percival went to get my things. He came back with them in a small sack. Then he had to go back to his duties.

"Would it be alright if I came back to see you tonight?" he asked.

My heart fluttered around inside my chest. "Of course," I said breathlessly. What had I done to deserve his attention?

Merlin went to be of service to King Arthur. I lay down in the bed and fell slowly asleep listening to Gaius' quiet bustling around. I felt strange, being among strangers, laying in a strange bed. But they were so kind. I had forgotten that people could be so kind and I didn't know what they might expect from me in return. They did not even know me, but they made me feel like I was among friends. I felt good somehow, but I was still worried about the future. I had to rely on Percival to help me.

When I awoke it was late in the afternoon. I offered to help Gaius prepare supper. I was happy Merlin was not there to do it, because I felt useless unless I could help out with something. Gaius accepted my help kindly.

After supper Percival came back. For the first time I saw him not wearing chain mail, just a regular shirt. It looked good on him. I became all nervous again. Why did he show interest in me? I dared not believe he actually meant anything by it. Why would he want me? I had nothing to offer.

Gaius mumbled something about some herbs that would be most effective if gathered at this hour of the day, after which he slipped outside.

"Percival. Please sit down," I said, pushing the stubborn words up through my clenching throat. I sat down across from him at the table that had been cleared after supper. What if someone came in and saw us alone together?

"Do you want something to drink?" I asked, getting on my feet again.

"That would be great."

I went and got some elderflower lemonade and made a cup of it for each of us. I hoped he would not notice how much my hand was shaking when I placed his in front of him.

"Thank you, Drea," he said. He looked directly into my eyes and I felt a swooping sensation in my stomach, like I was dropping off a cliff.

I sat carefully down again, hardly daring to look at him.

"Are you okay? Is there anything you need?" he asked.

I shook my head nervously. "No … "

A little bit of awkward silence ensued. But Percival kept talking a little bit at a time and slowly I also found my voice again.

He wanted to know what my life with Gertie and Elvin had been like. I told him mostly about my work and the shop, and also some things about the way they had treated me. But I still did not feel safe putting them in a completely bad light. While I talked, he simply looked at my face. Sometimes I thought he was staring so much that I was embarrassed and most of the time I looked at the table or the walls. But I loved that he was there. With me.


	18. Chapter 18: A King and his knight

_Percival / Arthur_

The following day Percival went to see King Arthur in his private chambers.

"Percival! What do I owe the honour?" the King said, not unwelcoming, when Percival had entered.

"There is a matter I wish to discuss with you, Sire," the knight answered. He saw Arthur as a friend, but it was still strange to be seeing him here. It was very different from being on the road together.

"Let's sit down," Arthur said, gesturing towards his massive desk in a corner near the window where the late afternoon sun spilled through. When they were seated, Arthur apparently could tell that he had to push a little more to get Percival talking. "What's on your mind?" he asked.

"Well … the thing is, I want to marry."

"Marry? Marry who?" Arthur said, perplexed. He did not know what he had expected, but it certainly was not this.

"Drea, the basket maker's apprentice. That is, she is not apprenticed there any longer, because yesterday … " and then Percival told Arthur how his suspicion had been awakened, what had happened when he went to the basket maker's house, and how he had brought Drea to the castle. He did not think that Arthur normally would deal with matters like this in person, but the King listened patiently, thus giving Percival more confidence as he spoke.

When he had heard all of the story of what happened the day before, King Arthur sat back in his chair and pondered over the matter for a moment.

"Where is she now?" he asked.

"With Gaius and Merlin." Last night Percival had been there talking to her, trying to get a clearer picture of what she had gone through the last four years and he had begun to understand better why she had always seemed so sad and troubled.

Arthur nodded his approval.

"And she's been helping in the laundry rooms today."

"She doesn't have to do that," Arthur said.

"I know, but she insisted on being put to work somewhere."

Arthur thought that was very well, but there was something he needed to get straightened out.

"If I remember correctly," the King said very carefully, looking Percival straight in the eye, "you were the one who initially brought Drea here, at the time of the attack of the Dorocha."

"That's correct, Sire."

"She was very young then. How old is she now?"

Percival breathed in deeply but did not cast his eyes down. "Seventeen."

She was still very young then, but not necessarily too young. Arthur decided not to make a further issue of that particular. He trusted Percival's judgement quite far and he would have other opportunities to assess by himself whether Drea was in fact ready to marry or not. But he was still puzzled over how his knight had fallen in love, because he had not, on his own account or that of any of the other knights, heard of Percival having formed any sort of attachment to any woman.

"Forgive me for asking, but have you actually been courting her?" he enquired, hoping the answer would be negative. He had a very high opinion of Percival's character and he would like to be able to maintain it. But that would be difficult if Percival over time had been courting a girl who was practically a child.

"No, sire. From the day she arrived in Camelot and until yesterday, I have not as much as spoken a word with her. But from the beginning she struck me as very special. I never forgot about her again."

Arthur once more deliberated the words of his knight. It must be a strong love that he felt, growing in spite of such a distance to its object.

"Percival, I trust you understand why I have to question your motives. These are surprising news to me."

"Of course, Sire."

"But if your conduct has been chivalrous and if Drea feels for you the way you do for her, then of course I will support your marriage."

Arthur understood why Percival had come here. Neither he nor Drea had any family. He needed the support of his friends to make a wedding happen.

"Thank you, sire," Percival smiled.

"So, have you asked her yet?" the King said with a sparkle in his eye, his tone less serious. He was reminded of when he himself had proposed to Guinevere – both the first and the second time, which had been quite different from one another.

"No," Percival grinned.

"Better get around to it then, and let's talk again in a couple of days," Arthur suggested.

_Drea_

The following morning I asked Merlin to help me find a job for the day in the castle.

"You don't have to work, Drea," he said.

"I know, but I'll just feel bad if I don't. Please let me."

"Of course, if you want," he smiled.

On his way to King Arthur, he brought me to the kitchens and asked if they could use my help. The cook said they might need me more in the laundry room, but if not, I could come back to the kitchen and help out. Merlin showed me to the laundry room where a woman and two other girls were working busily. The woman welcomed my help. Apparently one girl was sick at home and I could take her place for the day.

"See you later, Drea," Merlin said and went on his way.

"S-see you," I called after him. I still was not quite used to the friendliness.

The rest of the day I helped the others wash linen and sur-coats and cloths and the King's shirts and breeches. I did not see what the problem was about working when you were doing it with friendly, good-natured people who each did their share of the toil and there even was time to chat while we worked.

Not that I was the one who chatted the most. Even though the feeling of being of use made me feel better, I still felt different and out of place. But the girls were nice to me. They asked where I came from and what I was doing in the castle. One of them remembered to have seen me in the basket workshop. I did not want to offend them, because they were only trying to be welcoming. But I know I answered somewhat evasively. I was afraid they would not want anything to do with me if they found out why I was really here. But I was also frustrated by my own way of behaviour. I knew I ought to be more open. Otherwise I would never have close friends. At the end of the afternoon I agreed with the woman in charge of the laundry to come back the next day. Then I went back to Gaius and Merlin's chambers.


	19. Chapter 19: He must be insane

_Percival_

The King need not say so twice. Percival pelted down the stairs and was about to go to the laundry room, when he checked himself and ran towards the town instead. He jogged all the way to the jeweller's where he stepped inside. A few moments later he emerged again and set off back towards the castle.

Now he made his way to the laundry rooms to see if Drea was still there, but she had gone already. Then he went to Gaius' chambers. The old physician was preparing supper with the help of his apprentice.

"I'm here to see Drea," Percival said after they had exchanged greetings.

"She's in there," Gaius said, indicating the door to Merlin's room.

He knocked carefully on the door and waited for her to reply. When she did, he opened the door, stepped inside and closed it carefully behind him again. She was sitting on the bed. Her face softened in an shy smile when she saw who it was.

"How are you, Drea?" Percival asked.

"I'm alright," she said, looking down.

He was silent for a little while, trying to find the right words and gathering his courage.

"I came to ask you something," he said.

She looked up at him again.

He knelt down in front of her. "Drea. I love you very much. Will you marry me?" His heart hammered in his chest. He had meant it to come out more … elegantly.

She did not say anything. She just kept staring at him. Then he noticed that she started shaking.

"I'll understand if you say no," he hurriedly said. He had not wanted to upset her. "You might think it's too early and that you don't know me well enough, but … "

"No," she interrupted him, "it's not that. I want to marry you, but … " Her voice was shaking. She took a deep breath to get it under control. "You can't marry me. You're a knight of Camelot. And I'm nobody. I'm not good for anything. I've nothing to give you … "

What was she talking about? He'd had no idea she felt that way. "Drea! Don't speak like that. You are the most wonderful, beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He grabbed her hands in his and stared into her eyes to make her understand that he was telling the simple truth of his heart. "Please say yes. Please. If you want to, we can wait a year or two, but … "

She smiled. "I don't want to wait, Percival. I've loved you since the first time I saw you."

Percival could hardly believe his ears. She had loved him all the time?

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

_Drea_

I was just sitting in Merlin's room, resting and thinking, when Percival knocked on the door. I was really happy to see him. I'd not known when he would come back. The presence of him was such a comfort.

"How are you, Drea?" he asked.

"I'm alright."

Why was it so hard looking him in the eye?

He did not speak for a few moments and I was beginning to think something was wrong. Would he not help me anyway? Was this the moment of goodbye forever?

"I came to ask you something," he then said.

I looked up into his steady gaze, wonderingly. What favour could I possibly do for him? But the next words that came over his lips surprised me more than I could say.

"Drea. I love you very much. Will you marry me?"

Marry him? First, I thought that I must be dreaming. Then I thought that he must be joking. But that would be a cruel joke, and Percival was not cruel. He just wasn't. When I realised he must be serious, I started to tremble all over. Did he realise what he was offering me? He was the one, the man of my dreams. When had I ever gotten what I dreamed of?

But then I realised that I could not accept, for his sake. If he knew how stupid and useless I was, if he had seen the scars on my arms, he would never have asked me. I could not let him burden myself with me for the rest of his life, no matter how much I loved him. He could never love me back the way I loved him.

"I'll understand if you say no," he hurriedly said when I made no reply. "You might think it's too early and that you don't know me well enough, but … "

"No," I cut him off before he made matters worse, "it's not that. I want to marry you, but … " The blasted tears pressed and burned behind my eyelids again. Why did I always burst into tears when I was around him? I was so stupid. Taking a deep breath I continued: "You can't marry me. You're a knight of Camelot. And I'm nobody. I'm not good for anything. I've nothing to give you … "

"Drea!" he burst out, looking shocked. "Don't speak like that. You are the most wonderful, beautiful thing I've ever seen." He grabbed my hands and stared fiercely into my eyes. He meant it. I could tell he did. He did not think I was useless. I thought he was mistaken, but how could I keep on resisting? I wanted to be with him so badly. "Please say yes," he begged. "If you want to, we can wait a year or two, but … "

Wait two years? He must be insane. "I don't want to wait, Percival. I've loved you since the first time I saw you."

He looked incredulous.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes." _Yes, yes, yes, with all of my heart._ Bubbles of joy rose up inside of me. He pulled me up from the bed where I had been sitting and almost crushed me against his chest in his embrace. My bruised ribs ached, but I didn't care. He held me close for a long time and I savoured every second. If I had been able to melt into his body and just disappear in there, I would have done it.

Then he released me a little bit and I looked up at him, searching his eyes.

"Can I … Can I kiss you?" he asked in a whisper.

I wanted to say yes, but I could not speak. At the thought of kissing Percival I couldn't even breathe. What if I wasn't good at it? I just kept looking into his eyes while my heart was pounding harder and harder, hoping he would read my heart. And then, slowly, he moved his face closer to mine until our lips finally touched. He cupped the back of my head in his big, loving hands. His mouth was warm and soft and brushed against mine so very carefully. I had never felt anything more wonderful.

After, he said "Oh, I nearly forgot … " He stuck his hand in his pocket and produced a small, black, velvet drawstring pouch. He opened it and shook it gently upside-down over his palm. Out dropped a ring. He held it up in front of him. "I hope you like it. If you don't, we'll get you another one."

It was a thin band of gold set with a single small, blue star sapphire the same colour of my eyes. I held out my hand and he slid it onto my finger where it sat as if it had been made for it.

"It's beautiful," I told him.


	20. Chapter 20: Discoveries

_Arthur_

Before going to bed that night, King Arthur told his queen about his conversation with the knight.

"As a friend, I want to help Percival, of course," he declared, "but I think I also want to look into the matter about Drea and her caretakers. Apparently she wasn't very happy there."

"That's a good idea," Gwen replied. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "you have such a good heart, Arthur."

She had said that many times, especially since they married, but he knew that there was a time when he had not deserved those words. When he was younger, he had been somewhat of an arrogant brat, who did not think much further than the reach of his own nose.

"Because of you," he replied.

The next day he postponed some of his other duties and took sir Leon with him to the lower town. First he spoke with the basket maker. She did not have much to say and Arthur could only figure why. Then he talked to a few of her customers after they were leaving her shop. At first they did not want to say much about Drea either, but when he assured them that they would not get in any kind of trouble, they told him what they had seen whenever they had come to the workshop lately. That Drea was always working and Gertie was never there, but somewhere else in town. Arthur made a note of everything he heard and followed the leads to more people who might have seen or heard something of Gertie's treatment of her apprentice. Slowly he had a fuller and fuller picture of the girl's conditions.

In the end, after conferring with Sir Leon, who had come to all the same conclusions as himself, he went back to the workshop and confronted the basket maker with all of the information they had managed to piece together. When pressed, she admitted to it all: Drea working overtime for a payment so low it was outrageous, using her as a servant to herself and her husband, leaving her in charge of the shop and much more. Then Arthur asked to see Drea's room. Compared to the rest of the house, it was little better than a cell in the castle dungeons.

Before he left, Arthur said to the basket maker, "You have been paying only a third of the standard wages to your apprentice for almost four years."

"Yes, sire. That was only because business was so poorly. I explained to her that I would pay everything I owed her when things got better. She did not complain about it sire."

"So you say, even though I find it hard to believe."

Sadly, the shop owners of Camelot were not required to keep a record of income and expenses, so he could not prove that the woman was lying. "But as I hear in town and as I can see with my own eyes, your business is very good now. Within six months you are to fulfil your debt to your former apprentice. Expect a visit from the head tax collector. He will collect a rate each month and see that it is paid to Drea. Oh, and if he experiences any trouble regarding your payments, he will report directly to me."

"Yes, Sire."

The King signalled for Sir Leon to follow him and went back out onto the street.

"Outrageous," Sir Leon said with a regretful shake of the head. "That girl had no family or friends to turn to. It's beyond me how those people could take advantage of a poor girl like that. And on top of everything, the husband tried to have his way with her!"

"I can hardly believe it either," Arthur said darkly, "but what pains me the most is how everyone we talked to today seemed to know about it, but did not speak up. If it wasn't for Percival, she might still have been there."

In the evening, when he finally had time to speak to Gwen again, he told his wife what he had discovered regarding Drea.

"Poor girl! I bet she could use a good friend or two," Gwen said.

Arthur could only agree.

"Maybe I should go and see her … " Gwen continued, but then she checked herself. Arthur could see that some big idea had formed in her head. "Arthur," she began, "You feel guilty over Drea, don't you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," the King answered. As he had been thinking this afternoon, all it would have taken was to check up on the girl from time to time. But he had never thought of an arrangement like that for the apprentices of the town.

"And you said that you wanted to help her and Percival with their wedding, didn't you?"

"Yes, of course. He's one of my most trusted men. Not to say a very good friend."

"Well, then I have a suggestion. You might think it's over the top, but just hear me out. Then you can do what you want."

"Alright, lets hear it." He always enjoyed listening to her take on the situation.


	21. Chapter 21: Pendragon

_Drea_

The next evening Merlin came in and told me that King Arthur wanted to see me and Percival in his private chambers. I wondered what the King wanted. Hopefully there were no problems.

"Percival, could you please wait outside for a few minutes? I would like to speak to Drea privately," the King said when we entered. Percival looked a little surprised, but he did not seem worried when he walked back out. So I tried not to be either.

"Please sit down, Drea," the King said with a polite smile and gesture.

I sat down nervously on the edge of the chair that he had indicated. He sat down on the other side of the desk, across from me.

"So, Drea," he began. "I owe you a very big apology."

"What do you mean, Sire?" I asked, frowning in surprise.

"Four years ago you came here to Camelot to seek refuge. Bravely you stood up before the council and myself to give testimony of what you had seen and suffered. Your effort greatly assisted me and my men finding and destroying the Dorocha.

"But then I let you down. You put your trust in me, but all you got as thanks was four years of living in usurpation, loneliness and fear."

King Arthur looked me sombrely in the eye while he spoke.

"But Sire, that was - "

" - Not my fault?" The King raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "Drea, the Camelot I hope to be King of, is a place where all people get to feel safe, to feel respected and appreciated, no matter their station, their age, gender or circumstances. But if people like Elvin and Gertie could get away with mistreating you the way they did, it's only proof that I was not so close to reaching that goal as I thought. I have been naïve and careless and because of that, you have suffered. I only wish I could change the way things happened, give you back the months and years that were taken from you. Please forgive me."

He paused, still looking at me. There was a genuine look of guilt in his eyes. I realised that beneath it all, he was just another person. One who had thoughts and feelings and struggles like everybody else. Still, the situation had a strange upside-down feeling to it.

"I … I forgive you, Sire."

"Thank you, Drea. Still, I am determined to try and make it up to you, which is why I now adopt you as my warden. From this day forward you belong to the house of Pendragon with the same rights and privileges as if you had been born within it. As if you had been my own sister."

"But Sire … That's … I can't … " I was greatly startled. I was a poor girl from Clunsdale. How could I ever be a Pendragon, a royal? It just wasn't possible.

"Here is the document to prove it. It's yours to keep."

He handed me a very formal looking piece of parchment. I took it, but didn't read it. I just stared at him.

"Don't worry, Drea. I would never force you to live a noblewoman's life if you didn't want to. The meaning of this is, for one, that you lost your family and I would like to offer what I can in way of a replacement. I feel like I owe you that. You will always have a home here in Camelot, and no matter what kind of trouble you should find yourself in, you can always count on my help. That's my word of honour." He paused for a while to let me take in what he was saying. "Secondly, there is a more private perspective which you should take into consideration. I don't want marrying Percival to be your only option. Marrying for love is a far better thing than marrying for comfort."

"Oh … " I could see what he meant. Marrying Percival had in fact been my only option, even though I had not thought of it that way myself. If I had not loved him, it would have been another matter. "Thank you, Sire. But all the same, I still want to marry Percival. I love him so much that I could not bear to live without him."

I could hardly believe I had spoken so openly in front of the King. Maybe it was because I was in love. People say that makes you do strange things. But I think it was also because of King Arthur's humble conduct. I thought he was truly a remarkable King, even though I had never met any other Kings to compare him with.

"Good," he said, sounding satisfied. "There is also another matter we need to set straight. I have been informed that only one and a half month was left of your apprenticeship as a basket maker. Is that correct?"

"Yes, Sire."

"Under normal circumstances you would have to fulfil your apprenticeship to completion in order to receive your letter of mastery. But as I have received numerous witness' accounts that you not only know how to make baskets of the finest quality but also is capable of running a workshop, I see no reason why you should not receive your letter now. Here," he said, handing me another parchment. "You may call yourself a fully authorised basket maker. Of course it's up to you whether you would like to set up business or not."

"Thank you, sire."

"Oh, and here are the wages you were cheated for," he said, producing a bulging pouch that clinked dully when he set it on the table before me. "Your mistress has not paid all of it yet, but here is the full amount in advance. You need not think further about it. I suppose you will need a little extra savings when you are married, even though of course, as my warden, you will be granted a befitting dowry."

I gave up on trying to find words. It was too much. My whole world was upside-down now, not just the situation.

"Is it time we asked Percival to come back inside?" King Arthur asked after a little while where I just sat there, staring, completely dumbstruck.

"Yes, Sire." He rose from his seat to go to the door. "Well, one thing, Sire," I finally put in and he stopped. "Thank you. For everything. Thank you very much."

"Thank Guinevere when you see her. It was her idea. And please, call me Arthur. Not 'Sire'."

"Yes, Si- I mean … Arthur." It felt completely wrong to address him so informally. But I was a Pendragon now, a noble. Though I would probably never get used to that idea. I certainly did not have any wish of living like a noble.

Thrilled, Arthur and I told Percival all of the good news when he came in. He was just as surprised and grateful as I was. "I never thought I'd marry a royal warden," he grinned, looking at the document Arthur had presented me with.

"Guinevere and I would be honoured if you would hold the ceremony as well as the celebrations here in the castle," the King said.

"We would like that," Percival said, casting a side glance at me. I nodded. Then we agreed on a date and Arthur said Guinevere would speak to us about all the other particulars, because planning a wedding was not exactly his own forte.

Walking back to Gaius and Merlin, we spoke excitedly about our future prospects.

"With both of our savings, and your dowry, we will not need a thing, Drea," Percival said. "We can buy a house in the town. A really good one. I'll start looking tomorrow if you want! Then you can move in there as soon as possible."

"That would be wonderful, Percival."

When we were back outside Gaius' door, he took leave of me with another kiss; one that was a little longer and bolder than the last. It positively made my head spin.


	22. Chapter 22: House cleaning

The following day, when I was done in the laundry room, Percival was waiting for me outside.

"Drea," he said, taking my hand. "I've found a house for sale and I think it could be just the right thing for us. But I want to know if you like it too, before I agree to any deal. I have borrowed the key from sir Gannel. Have you time to go and see it now?"

Sir Gannel was the council member responsible for housing in the upper town.

"Yes, of course," I said, eager to see what kind of house he had found. I walked with him into town, and the house he showed me was truly a very good one. It was roomy, were in two levels, was situated in a good part of town, had a fine cooking space and was generally solid and in a very good condition. It was just somewhat dirty from having been empty for a long while, but, walking around the rooms I could easily imagine how comfortable and lovely it would be when it had been cleaned and furnished. It was not exactly cheap, but the price was nonetheless reasonable and we could afford it. I told Percival I would be very happy if he bought it. When we were back at the castle he went directly to Sir Gannel and closed the deal.

Guinevere showed up in Gaius' rooms and invited me for tea in her chambers. I liked her instantly. She was so sweet and easy to talk to that I forgot she was a royal and about ten years older than myself. But then, we did have some things in common. She had once been a commoner, like me.

Like Arthur, she told me to call her Gwen, and not 'My Lady". She was also impulsive and funny, not at all how I used to imagine a queen. We started talking about the wedding, the gown, the flowers, the food, but soon the conversation moved between many more topics. I did not even notice how quickly time went by. I told her about the new house and how I wanted to clean and furnish it before the wedding.

"That's a big job," she said. "You are going to need help."

"I suppose so," I admitted.

"Will you let me and my maids help you? We have the time," she asked.

"You? That would not be fitting," I said, imagining her, the queen, scrubbing those dirty floors.

"You'd be ashamed to have me in your house?" she cried, alarmed.

"No – that's not what I meant!" I replied, afraid that I had offended her, until I realised by the spark in her eye that she was joking, and that she had understood my meaning very well.

"No, seriously," she continued. "I don't see why not. I have been working all my life. And I really would like to get to know you better," she said with a smile.

"Well, I could use some help," I said hesitantly.

"That's settled then. We'll meet you there tomorrow and you can tell me about your plans."

What was said was also done. Percival helped out with the heavier jobs when he was not on duty. Gwen and her maids came as promised, dressed fit for dirty work. The Queen had hidden her lively mass of curls under a plain scarf, so I hardly recognised her before she stood before me. I felt both proud and excited when I showed them around the rooms, telling them the plans and ideas I had for each one. They also added some very good suggestions.

I had brought a small pouch of money and the first thing we did was to go into the town to purchase buckets, mops and soap. Then we began to wash down the heavy layers of dust and cobweb. I lost count of how many buckets of filthy water we poured into the gutter. Time and time again I cast a look at Gwen. I still could not really understand what the Queen of Camelot was doing, cleaning my house. But as the hours passed by, we did have a lot of fun working together all four of us. The maids Sophia and Jocelyn were really nice and energetic.

I suppose Gwen liked to be out of the castle and just be her old self for a while: the blacksmith's daughter who used to be a maid and a serving girl. It must be difficult to change one's life so much as she had done.

We focused mainly on the living room with the cooking space in one end, and the bed chamber, so that I could furnish them and use them as soon as possible. When we were tired of cleaning, we walked to the carpenter and ordered a bed, a dresser, a cupboard and a dining table.

"Better make that bed extra long, seeing as Sir Percival is so tall," the carpenter grinned good-humouredly.

"How did he know I was to marry Percival?" I asked Gwen when we had gone.

"Word always gets around somehow. People are curious," she said with a smile. "The best thing to do is get used to it."

"Do you think they also know Arthur made me his warden?"

"No, no-one knows that. Not yet anyway. But people will ask questions when they see him walking you up the aisle."

"He's going to do that? He doesn't have to. I can walk by myself, or maybe Sir Gwaine would – no, he's the best man. But what about Gaius, or … "

"Drea, Arthur _wants_ to do it. You're not sorry, are you?"

"No, of course not. I'm very happy it'll be him." I truly was. It would be as if he really was my brother. But I did not know how to react to all the attention I was getting from everywhere.

The days went by so quickly. I loved to spend time with Percival, getting to know him, just talking to him, holding hands with him, and also kissing a little more, when no-one else was around. He was so considerate. Nothing he said or did disappointed me. I only wish I could see him even more. But whenever he was not there, I looked at my ring. It reminded me that his thoughts were always with me.


	23. Chapter 23: An early wedding present

Some days later I went to Gwen's quarters where the tailor was in attendance to do a fitting of my wedding gown. She had showed me samples of fabric to choose from and asked me how I would like it to look and Gwen had helped coming up with ideas and I was quite excited to see the result. When she showed it to me I hardly knew what to say. It was not quite as I had pictured it in my head – it was even more beautiful. When I tried it on and Gwen pinned up my hair I could hardly recognise my own image in her large looking glass. I looked forward to the moment when Percival would see me wearing it.

When the tailor had gone I sat down and talked to Gwen. We were done cleaning the house and I had moved in there. But a lot of furnishing and decorating still had to be done. It took a lot of work because neither I nor Percival owned anything. Stuff that we needed to buy kept popping up. Gwen and I had gone into town to buy all kinds of items, but we were not done yet. Now we made a list of what we wanted to buy tomorrow.

When we could think of nothing more to put on the list, Gwen rose from her seat saying "I have something for you." She went over to a chest and took out something wrapped in cloth.

"Gwen, you don't have to give me anything," I protested anxiously. It was so hard for me to accept gifts, probably because I did not know how to repay the favour.

"I know, but I wanted to make you happy. Let's just say it's an early wedding present."

She handed me the parcel. I untied the string that held the coarse cloth together and pushed it back to reveal a beautiful, gem-studded hair pin that matched the wedding gown. It lay on top of three sets of the most lovely, soft undergarments and three everyday dresses, ordinary looking like I would have chosen for myself, but of very good quality, with little decorative stitching at the cuffs and along the neckline.

"Gwen, you already know me too well! Thank you so much."

"I thought you would feel more comfortable if you wore better clothes."

That was true. I was sick of wearing the same old undyed linen dress I had had for years and had wanted to get new things for some days, but not had the time to do it.

When I came home, I poured myself a nice hot bath in the new bathtub and changed into one of the new sets clothes. It made me feel like a whole new person. The old things I burned in the fireplace.

Just a few days before the wedding, the house was finally well enough furnished and decorated to live comfortably in. Percival was just as happy about it as I was. He kept praising me for doing such a good job of it, but I thought he praised me far too much. Gwen, Sophia and Jocelyn had all done their fair share of the job. It was a fantastic feeling, though, to have my own home and keep it neat and orderly, without anyone else interfering. While I did the decorating I had thought a lot about my mother, my family and the house we'd lived in in Clunsdale. This house was quite different, but it still felt like home.


	24. Chapter 24: Indulgence

Gwen absolutely insisted that I spent the night before the wedding in her quarters. At first I declined, not wanting to be of trouble, but she did not let me be until I had said yes. I would probably also have felt a little lonely on my own.

When I arrived, she had yet another surprise for me. She had invited Sophia and Jocelyn and arranged for the four of us to have a private dinner together. The food was very good and we had a great laugh around the table. They were all very excited for me, and the excitement was infectious. Gwen was clearly enjoying just to be a girl in the company of other girls, and I don't think I had ever been enjoying that same thing so much as I did now, even though I sometimes still felt stupid and rigid when I compared myself to them.

When dinner was over, Gwen and the others set to work beautifying me. They poured a big tub of hot water and washed and scrubbed me all over with the finest herbal soap I'd ever seen.

"You really don't have to do all this," I said, my bad conscience killing me.

"Don't be ridiculous. Tomorrow is your big day. You deserve it more than anyone else I know," Gwen said, putting a stop to the discussion. So I decided to let them do whatever they wanted and just enjoy it as much as I possibly could. At first I felt very awkward about being naked in front of them, but when they took off their dresses in order not to get them wet and just worked in their undergarments, I felt better about it. I tried to hide my arms under the foam floating on the water, but it was difficult to keep them there all the time. At one time Jocelyn said "Drea, what that on y-"

I looked up, but she stopped in mid-sentence. I caught just a glimpse of Gwen shaking her head furtively at Jocelyn. But then she noticed me and she just smiled like nothing had happened. Gwen must have noticed the scars first and sensed they were a matter of embarrassment to me. I was glad of the way she had handled the situation, but also very frustrated because I was like a baby who needed special protection. But the bath was so nice that after a minute or two I was able to shrug it off.

They washed my hair with something that smelled absolutely heavenly. My hair had never felt softer than it did afterwards. And when I came out of the water they rubbed me in savoury lotions before drying me up with the softest towels. That got me to thinking that soon Percival would probably also be looking at my body, and touching it. I was so incredibly nervous about that that I totally stiffened. What if he wouldn't like it? What if _I_ wouldn't like it?

"Drea? Are you alright?" Sophia asked.

"Oh, I'm fine," I said, trying to smile, when I realised that in my mind I had been completely gone from the room.

Then they cleaned and polished my nails on both my hands and feet. Several more beautifying rituals followed. When they were done, even I thought I looked a little like something that could be described as beautiful. All the while we had been talking about girly things, like love and marriage and men. I was feeling more and more overwhelmed, so it was quite a relief when Sophia and Jocelyn finally said good night and went home.


	25. Chapter 25: Gwen the spy

Forsaking Arthur's company for the night, Gwen shared her canopy bed with me. There was plenty of room for both of us and we talked in the darkness for hours into the night. Perhaps it would have been more sensible to get our sleep before the big day, but the spur of the moment was too strong. Talking just to Gwen in private, when she could not see my face, gave me back my courage. And luckily, she was not quite so direct in her way of addressing certain topics as Jocelyn and Sophia had been.

"Tell me about Percival," she whispered at one point. "I mean, about how you fell in love with him."

I told her about that horrible, confusing morning four years ago when he had comforted me and lifted me onto his horse. "He made me feel so safe. I loved the kindness in his eyes, the way he seemed to want to protect me. And … he was so handsome it made me feel all fuzzy. I know I was only a child then and I probably wasn't supposed to have feelings like that, but … "

"Don't be silly," Gwen said. "I had feelings like that when I was thirteen. Even before, I think. You see, my father had an apprentice called Jake, who was tall and muscular and had he had the most amazing eyes. I used to spy on him through a whole in the wall," she told me, finishing in a suppressed giggle, which I couldn't help joining in on.

"Really?" I giggled.

"Yes! I don't know what my father would have said if he'd ever found out."

"Well … I never told anyone about those things, not even my best friend."

"I didn't tell anyone about them either," Gwen said.

I felt strange, but good. Maybe I had not been so very abnormal after all.

"And those feelings you had for Percival stayed with you all that time?" she continued when I fell silent.

"Yes. They only kept growing stronger. But I never plucked up the courage to talk to him. At times it made me so frustrated I thought I was going mad."

"It was probably better that you didn't."

"Yes, I can see that now. He's told me that he loved me as well, all the time, but I understand why he couldn't show it."

"Yes," Gwen mused. "People would just have got the wrong idea."

I thought about telling her that I could not understand _why_ he loved me, but I knew she would say I was just as likely to be loved than anyone else. Which of course might be logically true. I just could not feel it, or believe it in my heart.

"Are you … ready … for your wedding night?" she carefully asked a few moments later.

"Well … I know what's going to happen if that's what you mean," I replied, "or, I think I do. But … I have no idea what it will be like … I mean, what if he doesn't like me? I don't know what to do, or how to be. I'm just so nervous."

I was thinking about what Ailith and I had sometimes heard the older girls whisper about back in Clunsdale. The half stories, the insinuations we had picked up and how we had hardly dared to talk about it between the two of us.

"Don't be," Gwen said in a way that almost convinced me.

"Doesn't the first time hurt?" I asked.

"If Percival is just as considerate and gentle as Arthur … and I can only imagine that he is – then even the pain will feel good," she said.

I instantly blushed when a picture popped up in my mind of Arthur and Gwen embracing in bed. I was happy she could not see my expression. I was still very doubtful. But Percival _was_ considerate and gentle. I had never seen him be anything else, except when he was fighting Elvin, and even then he had only done what had been absolutely necessary.

"I've never talked about this with someone who has actually tried it," I realised aloud.

"You know," Gwen said, "some people say that only men enjoy it, and women only do it because they have to. But they don't know what they are talking about."

This was news to me. I waited for her to continue.

"And I think that the men who don't want the woman to enjoy it as well, they don't know what they are about either … Because … "

I could feel that she did not think this was very easy to talk about, but I was so grateful because it proved that she saw me as a real friend, and I needed her to share her experience. "... Well, because Arthur says that he enjoys it much more when he can see that I enjoy it too."

"What does it feel like?" I asked.

"It's hard to describe. There is nothing else like it. It feels fantastic."

I was a little disappointed that she could not describe it better. That did not exactly make me less nervous. What was I to expect, and how would I know if it felt right?

"But Drea? Don't be afraid to tell him if you are not ready the first night, or week, or month even. He will understand. If you are afraid, I think it will be a bad experience for both of you."

"You're probably right."

I realised that even though Percival and I loved each other, it was no guarantee that we would never cause each other hurt. Quite the contrary, actually. It was a scary but strangely beautiful thought.

"And also, try to make fun of it instead of treating it like some formal ceremony. You'll feel much better about it if you can laugh at yourselves," Gwen advised.


	26. Chapter 26: Drea's despair

_Percival_

Shortly before the wedding ceremony was scheduled to begin, Percival was standing at the far end of the aisle in the great hall with Gwaine at his side. He was thinking about a conversation he had had earlier that day with King Arthur, about Drea.

"It seems to me she has a very fragile mind," Arthur had said.

That was true. And that was one of the things that had made Percival fall for her. It induced a strong urge in him to protect her. But he hoped to see her wounded soul heal, sooner rather than later. When she felt pain, his own heart ached as well. To see her smile and laugh, to see her embrace life, was his most fervent wish of all.

"I don't know how to make her realise what she is worth," Percival had said.

"I think she needs time. Time and patience. Perhaps years of it," was Arthur's advice. "We all need to keep showing her that we have faith in her."

"But I most of all," Percival had replied. When they were married, she was his responsibility, and he was ready to honour it.

"You should take the next three days off. To spend time with her. Perhaps take her out of Camelot," Arthur offered.

Some days ago, Gaius had come to see Percival in his private chamber. The physician had told him that he was concerned about Drea and wanted to speak to him.

"What's the nature of your concern? Is she sick?" Percival asked warily.

"Maybe what I observed carry little meaning," Gaius had said "Because I do not know what lies behind it. But if it does carry any meaning, then my answer to your question is both yes and no."

"I don't understand."

"Let me explain. When you first brought Drea in, after she'd been attacked, I examined her. And I noticed some old, but quite severe scarring on her arms."

"Scarring?"

"Yes. But it did not look like it was caused by any sort of accident or ordinary injury. They could be either the result of deliberate torture by someone else, or of self-infliction of pain."

"Self-infliction?" Percival could not see why anyone would want to cut themselves deliberately.

"It is not unheard of. But it is a symptom of a very high degree of emotional stress and depression of spirit."

"I see."

Those scars would have come from something, and since Drea had claimed that Elvin had not harmed her, Gaius' explanation of self-infliction seemed the most probable one. Percival had then begun to understand how deep Drea's despair had run. Why she could not simply let her self-doubt go. And he was glad that Gaius had given him a heads up. If he'd reacted in shock in front of Drea when discovering the scars, she might have interpreted it as disgust and felt unwanted. That was not going to happen now.

But Percival sensed that if Drea was to recover, things had to happen on her terms completely, at least for a while. And he was determined to give her the time and care that she needed.


	27. Chapter 27: You shall be blessed

Percival snapped back into the present. The great hall was humming quietly with the hushed voices of the guests, which included most of the castle: The servants, the maids and man-servants, the council members, the men-at-arms and the knights, plus some important people from the town. The hall was decorated with white flowers and a group of musicians stood ready to accompany the scene with lovely sounds from their instruments.

Suddenly everyone's eyes fixed on the tall doors in the other end of the hall. They were opening and the figures of the bride and the King were revealed. The King was clad in a red velvet tunic and a matching cape and he wore a golden circlet on his blonde head. Drea was dressed in an astoundingly elegant green silk gown, and as they walked closer, Percival saw that her hair was done up in a beautiful mass of waves that weaved in and out of each other, and that it was decorated with little white flowers and a beautiful pin studded with green gemstones. Her pale skin was radiating and she smiled nervously at all the people they passed. A wave of admiration of the bride and surprise at her accompanier washed through the hall. Percival realised that music was playing. He had not noticed when the musicians had begun.

Finally they all stood before Geoffrey of Monmouth, the castle's scribe and master of ceremonies, who was going to perform the wedding ritual. The music stopped. The whispering had died away completely. Not a sound could be heard in the hall.

"Who gives away this woman to be married?" Geoffrey began.

"I, King Arthur of Camelot, give away my warden, Drea Pendragon, daughter of Hamish of Clunsdale, to be married to Sir Percival, Knight of Camelot," Arthur said in his clear, confident voice.

"Who can testify that Sir Percival is free to be married and has no former attachments?" the master of ceremonies continued.

"I, Sir Gwaine, Knight of Camelot, stand to testify that Sir Percival is free to be married," Gwaine answered. "Well, except, there was one time when … " Drea, Percival, Arthur and Geoffrey all stared at him in shock. His lips curled slightly. "I am joking," he said.

After giving Sir Gwaine some exasperated glares, they returned their attention to Geoffrey. Percival thought he heard the tiniest of giggles escape Drea and he noticed that Arthur also seemed to have hard time keeping a straight face. In fact it was quite funny. He fought hard not to smile himself. Geoffrey did not seem amused, though.

"By the ancient ritual of hand-fasting, we will now let Drea, daughter of Hamish, and Sir Percival of Camelot be joined together with an eternal bond."

He paused to produce a beautifully embroidered band, which he tied around Drea's and Percival's joined hands. Arthur and Gwaine then took their places in the front row next to Queen Guinevere.

"Sir Percival, please say out your vow for all to hear and bear witness," Geoffrey said.

Percival breathed in deeply and looked into Drea's loving eyes. He hoped he could remember all of it. It was not that he did not mean all those beautiful words, it was just a lot to remember by heart. "Drea, daughter of Hamish, from this moment I take you as my wife. I promise to always care for you and protect you from any harm, danger or enemy. I promise to trust and confide in you and seek your counsel in all things. I shall respect and honour you and not seek to change you in any way. I shall always seek your happiness and you shall forever be the object of all my affections. In this way, as your husband, I shall serve you until the day I die."

He must have remembered it all correctly, because Geoffrey did not seem displeased.

"Drea, daughter of Hamish, please say out your vow for all to hear and bear witness."

Drea looked just as nervous as he had been. "Sir Percival of Camelot," her voice sounded, a little thin and shaky at first, but soon bolder and fuller, "from this moment I take you as my husband. I promise always to be true and supporting to you in all of your endeavours. I promise to trust and confide in you and seek your counsel in all things. I shall respect and honour you and not seek to change you in any way. I shall always seek your happiness and you shall forever be the object of all my affections. In this way, as your wife, I shall serve you until the day I die."

Geoffrey took their joined hands in his and lifted them up in the air. "Now that you publicly have professed your love and promised to be true to each other until death, I declare you to be husband and wife. If you honour your promises, both in times of joy and times of trial, you shall be blessed with peace and all forms of happiness. Go now and begin your life together." He lowered their hands and they turned to face the congregation. The music started again and Percival led Drea by the hand still fasted to his by the embroidered band, down the aisle. He had felt proud on many occasions in his life, but the pride he felt now was of a whole new kind. He was not proud of himself or anything he had done. He was proud of Drea. That she, the most wonderful woman in the world, belonged to him. It was a blessing he had not earned. She was a gift and a treasure that had been entrusted to him and he would forever endeavour to be worthy of it.

After the ceremony, they waited in the castle yard where the guests milled by to congratulate them, while the great hall was being transformed for the wedding banquet. It became a very festive evening which went by faster than Percival had thought possible. But that was alright. It meant that life with Drea was near at hand.

At midnight it was time for the bride and groom to leave the celebrations. As Percival had ordered, a stable hand was waiting in the castle yard with his horse, ready saddled and packed. He lifted his shining bride into the saddle, the exact same way he had done once before, four years ago. He could see in Drea's eyes that she remembered and she looked happy. He mounted up behind her, took the reins in his right hand while supporting her with his left and urged the horse into a steady trot. They left the castle yard in the moonlight under a shower of flower petals tossed by the female guests. Drea's massive silk skirts waving in the air was the last thing that could be seen before they disappeared into the night.


	28. Chapter 28: Epilogue: Somewhere nice

"Where are we going?" Drea asked wonderingly when they had reached to road and she realised he was not heading for their new home.

"Somewhere nice. You'll see," he said calmly. He had thought that Arthur's idea of taking her outside Camelot was a good one. It would be a wonderful change for her. And the nice place that he had just talked about, had almost instantly popped up in his mind: An abandoned fisherman's cabin in a remote spot near the sea. It was sometimes used by the knights as a shelter on longer patrols. He had made sure no-one was going to use it for the next three days.

Drea leaned sleepily against him, nestling her head in the curve provided by his chest and his upper arm, as they rode across the green, rolling hills in the dark. All that could be heard was the rustling of silk, the dull thud of the horse's hooves in the tall, drying grass and the lone cry of an owl somewhere in the night.

He tightened his hold around her a little bit. _You're mine, Drea. You are mine and I'll make sure you'll be alright. No-one can take you from me now._ He buried his nose in her hair, breathed in deeply and let out a long, happy sigh.


End file.
